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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Singing in the Shower (Ragnarssons x Reader)

This is just a silly little one-shot that came to mind that I could not stop thinking about. It got a bit deeper than I planned but oops?

Also my first time writing a Ragnarssons x reader! Please let me know if I did all the brothers justice. Except Bjorn isn’t in here. So its just the sons of Aslaug. Sorry, Bjorn.

Warnings: some brief mentions of abusive/unhealthy past relationships, reader has some insecurities, the brothers being the best roomies ever but also creepers, like one or two swear words, FLUFFY GOODNESS!!!

Words: 3700

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

(picture is from Pinterest. Not mine.)

The sound of laughter echoed around you even before leaving your bedroom. It was a Sunday night so that meant the Lothbrok brothers were all over. A tradition Ubbe started some months ago to make sure the four brothers stayed connected in each other's lives. Every Sunday evening, all of them would congregate in the three bedroom flat you shared with Ubbe and Hvitserk. They would order a stack of pizzas and enough beer to put a pub crawl to shame, and watch movies or play video games until the early morning hours. Only twice had fist fights broken out between Sigurd and Ivar with just a table and a lamp damaged in the process, so Ubbe called it a win.

It had only been about a year that you lived with Ubbe and Hvitserk. Sigurd chose to move in with a couple members of the band he played in. Aslaug vehemently refused to let Ivar move out due to his many medical needs that she claimed he could only receive proper attention for at home. In equal parts rebellion and to escape his mother’s suffocating attention, Ivar spent the majority of his free time and nights crashing on the couch at your shared flat.

At first, you were hesitant about living with the two brothers, having only known them through friends, but you decided to give it a chance. Within a couple of months, you found the strange dynamics of your shared space and your vastly different relationships with each of the brothers to feel eerily familiar….like being home.

Standing at your door, you listened to the brothers for a few moments, smiling broadly as you heard Hvitserk taunting Sigurd about how he was going to beat his ass if he threw another blue shell at him. Meanwhile Ivar was yelling something about the undeniable magic of Yoshi and his winning streak. They must be playing Mario Kart again.

It was nice to hear them all getting along. Normally Sunday nights you hung out with your boyfriend to give the brothers privacy, even though all of them repeatedly told you it was unnecessary. That was until last week. You had taken a selfie on your boyfriend's phone and went to set it as his background to surprise him….and found nude pictures of other girls and the dick pics he sent them back. Before you stormed out of his flat, you may have thrown his phone against the wall, pleased when the screen shattered just like your trust. Then you came home and cried to Hvitserk about how you were swearing off men and just wanted to be a spinster for the rest of your life.

Word must have spread between the brothers. For the rest of the week, they all offered their support in various ways. Sigurd texted you a few times to check on you and remind you that clearly you were better off without your ex. Ubbe gave you long hugs as if trying to soak the pain out of you, and made sure you were eating and getting out of bed. Hvitserk surprised you with a new sugary treat every day ranging from Oreos to ice cream to chocolate muffins; then you two would cuddle on the couch indulging yourselves while watching movies. Ivar threatened to beat up your now ex-boyfriend for making you cry and take pictures to send to those girls your ex had been texting. You made sure to shut Ivar's idea down quickly but pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and thanked him for offering. You hated your ex, that did not mean you wanted him dead.

You pushed away from your door and down the hallway. Popping your head around the corner, you saw the brothers in various positions in the living room, eyes all glued to the TV and the race happening on-screen.

"I'm gonna shower." You announced, receiving grunts of affirmations as they were too focused to fully acknowledge you. Smiling at their antics, you headed into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting the shower up. Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you stripped and jumped in. Of course, once the mixture of hot water and steam helped you relax, you started singing to yourself, letting the worries of the day fade away for just a moment as the words flowed from your lips and echoed off the shower stall walls like your own little stage.

Unbeknownst to you, as soon as the bathroom door shut and the sound of water running could be heard, the volume on the TV was muted.

Ivar, surprisingly, was the first one to overhear your singing. He had come over to crash for a few hours after his latest doctor appointment and to work on an assignment for a University class. The bathroom door somehow had not fully latched when you closed it, cracking open while you were in the shower….and you started singing. Ivar sat stunned on the couch at the voice slipping out of the bathroom like a siren's song. He remained there, transfixed as you sang some song he had never heard but he could feel in his chest. Once you stopped singing and the shower turned off, he quickly jumped up and hobbled over to silently shut the door, slightly embarrassed by the idea of you catching him listening in to your shower singing.

Later that day after you headed out to work, Ivar asked Ubbe and Hvitserk if they had heard you sing yet. Both of them denied ever hearing you sing. When asked if he knew anything, Sigurd was upset, having asked you on multiple nights to go to a karaoke bar with him and some friends. You always refused by saying you sounded Iike a beached whale.

Ubbe was next to overhear. He was walking by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen when he heard your voice drifting from underneath the bathroom door. Feeling like a creeper but curiosity winning out, he pressed his ear to the bathroom door to listen better. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. Sure, he had heard Ivar praise your voice, but he figured his youngest brother was exaggerating. It made him wonder why you never sang in front of others.

A silent pact was made between the brothers that they would never share the information of your singing with anyone outside the four of them….and whenever you jumped in the shower, whoever was the closest would go and crack the bathroom door open so they could hear you better.

This time was no different.

Sigurd was closest, so after Ubbe paused the game, he jumped up and silently cracked open the door so your beautiful voice could flow out. The game picked back up but remained on mute so they could hear you. The first song you serenaded them with was Walk Me Home by Pink. Apparently, one of your new favorites since you sang it so often. Next was Someone Like You by Adele. By the third song, the brothers had abandoned the game and were solely focused on you and the raw emotion bleeding from your voice. This time you started to sing Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.

Ubbe spoke up, keeping his voice quiet just in case you could hear them, however unlikely. "Has she said anything about her ex lately?"

"Not to me." Hvitserk answered first. "I thought she was doing fine."

"Just because she's not crying all the time doesn't mean she's fine." Ivar retorted harshly, never removing his eyes from the direction of the bathroom. After a moment, he got up and hobbled towards the bathroom.

"Ivar…. Ivar, what are you doing?" Ubbe hissed but was ignored.

As quiet as possible, Ivar walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid; your singing managed to cover the sounds of his movement. As he rolled his head to the side, it was to find his brothers had followed him with varying expressions ranging from concern to amusement.

Normally you did not spend so long in the shower but today you decided to spoil yourself. You had been doing well all week but this morning you were scrolling through your Instagram and happened to stumble upon a picture of your ex with a new girl, smiling happily and kissing at a restaurant…. the day after you broke up. And seeing them together felt like it ripped a tear into the slowly healing pieces of your heart.

Instead of going out like you planned to do, you laid in bed all-day binge-watching movies and feeling like an idiot. So in the shower you took extra time pampering yourself, using a deep conditioner in your hair, shaving everywhere and just letting the hot water cascade down your skin and loosen the tense muscles.

At this point you were feeling a little better and decided it was best not to waste any more water. You turned the water off, running your hands down your body to get as much excess water off, before you reached for your towel. Grabbing the plush towel hanging on the rack, you quickly dried your hair and wrapped the towel around your body before pulling the curtain back….

Only to shriek as you realized you were not alone in the bathroom.

"What? What are you guys doing?" You demanded, eyes frantically darting between the four brothers.

Ivar sat on the toilet lid; head tilted as he watched you with a peculiar expression on his face. Hvitserk leaned against the sink, eyes darting from your towel-clad body to the floor then back up. Ubbe and Sigurd stood in the doorway, both looking the least comfortable but still not moving.

"We, ah, we were…. well, we are concerned for you." Ubbe said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Concerned?" You asked incredulously.

Ivar ignored your question. "Is this about your ex? Want me to pay him a visit?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your singing. They were sad songs." Sigurd answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Heat flooded your face. You dropped your head, staring at the bathroom floor as you clutched the towel closer to your body. Honestly, the idea of them hearing your singing was far more humiliating than them seeing you naked at this point. "You…. you heard me…. singing?"

"Y/n, are you OK? You know you can tell us anything." Hvitserk said, trying to meet your eye.

"Um, can…. can we talk about this when…. when I'm not naked?"

"Of course. Come on, brothers." Ubbe quickly agreed, tapping the door as if to signal. He and Sigurd walked away first. Only when you finally met Hvitserk's eye did he push off the sink and head out but not before giving you a flirty wink.

"Ivar…."

He slouched back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."

"Oh gods, please, Ivar." You begged, almost on the verge of tears.

He stared at you a long moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Don't think you're getting out of this."

"Ok."

Appeased, he made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Once alone, you stepped out of the shower only to drop onto the toilet lid and place your head in your hands. Your chest heaved and your eyes stung as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Today was bad enough and now this. It had to be something out of a nightmare. Your own personal hell.

When you finally composed yourself, you quickly changed into your comfiest sweats and tank top. You wished you could make a run for your room, anything to avoid the impending conversation but you knew the brothers would follow, they were all stubborn and persistent when they wanted to be.

With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom and towards the living room. What hushed disagreement the brothers were clearly having abruptly ended when they noticed you. Awkwardly you remained standing, unsure where to sit. The only open spots were on the couch between Hvitserk and Ivar or one of the recliners as Ubbe sat in the other one. Sigurd reclined on the rocker gaming chair on the floor.

Averting your eyes, you started towards the open recliner only to have a strong arm snake around your waist as you passed by and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked as you suddenly found yourself perched on Ivar's lap. Somewhere you had certainly never been before.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face.

"Um, over there." You nodded your head towards the other open spot.

"No, you're sitting here now."

"Stop hogging her, brother." Hvitserk reached over and dragged you off Ivar. Somehow you ended up with your back against Hvitserk's side, his arm slung around you and your legs across Ivar's lap, him slowly running his hand up and down them.

Ubbe raised an eyebrow at the three of you. "Are you done yet?"

"I thought we were just fine but I guess Hvitty had other plans." Ivar snarked, rolling his eyes.

"We're good now." Hvitserk said with a cheesy smile, making you giggle.

"So how are you really doing, y/n?" Ubbe asked, staring at you with those knowing blue eyes.

"Um, I'm alright. Today was just…. rough." At the four questioning looks, you quickly explained about what you found this morning on Instagram.

Ivar slapped the armrest of the couch. "I'm beating his ass now and nothing you say can stop me."

You snagged his other hand that was still on your leg and clasped it, as if that alone could diminish his deadly intent. "Please don't. He's not worth it. I just…. I just want to move on. Ok?"

He grumbled, but eventually gripped your hand and gave it a single squeeze in acknowledgement.

Now here was the part that petrified you; but you needed to know.

"Um, how…. how long have…. was this your first time?" Your words stumbled out, making you cringe at how ineloquent it was.

"What are you talking about?" Sigurd drawled; one foot propped up so he slowly rocked in the gaming chair.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. You dropped your gaze, as you whispered your answer. "My….my singing."

"What? You sound bloody brilliant! The others have heard you more than me but you always sound amazing!" Sigurd exclaimed, a beaming smile on his face. "I don't know why you haven't gone out with me before! Oh! I'd love for you to try and sing in my band, we could use an amazing vocalist like you! Gods, we could get way more gigs with a beautiful woman like you upfront singing."

Soon as Sigurd started talking, you covered your face with your hands. The tears you managed to repress earlier flooded back. Your shoulders hunched over, cowering into yourself at the revelation. They had all heard you. Apparently more than just this one time. It was mortifying. Long ago you stopped singing in front of others, no longer able to face the ridicule, the degrading comments always thrown your way. And now, these brothers that you had become so close to…. if they said anything negative towards you right now, you were sure your heart would fully break and no lyric would ever pass your lips again.

Hvitserk shifted behind you, turning you so he could wrap both arms around your waist and place his cheek against the side of your head. "Y/n, talk to us."

You shook your head, the barely suppressed tears and poisoned words clogging your throat.

Abruptly, a pair of calloused hands grabbed yours, forcing them away from your face. You were immediately met by a pair of piercing blue eyes, only inches from your face.

"Whose ass am I killing now? Huh?" Ivar demanded in a low, menacing tone. Between his tone and the fury burning in his eyes, you knew he meant his question, and that sent a nervous chill down your spine.

"It's not…. it’s nothing."

"Bullshit." Ivar spat.

Hvitserk nuzzled your temple, his voice lighter but still with an edge of steel in it. "I agree with Ivar. Something happened."

Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes. There were a few things that were just too painful to talk about and this one, they had unknowingly stumbled upon.

"Was it your mother?"

Your eyes flew open, your head snapped over to stare at Ubbe in shock. He met your gaze unflinchingly, and somehow you knew he already figured at least part of it out. He accidentally overheard a phone conversation between you and your mother one time and once you got off the phone, he immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and promised you never had to see her again if you never wanted to, that they would take care of you. Of course, you cried all over him after he promised that.

Ubbe leaned forward in the recliner, placing his elbows on his knees, gaze still intent on you. "What did she do?"

"She…. she hated when I sang. Said I was just desperate for attention. That I needed to just shut up. That no one would want to listen to me anyway. If she ever caught me singing…. once she duct-taped my mouth shut."

You could hear the gasps at your confession, followed by a round of curses. Hvitserk pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you. Ivar squeezed your hands, still holding them within his own.

Ubbe nodded as if not surprised. He ran a hand down his face and sighed before stealing your gaze once again. "I have a feeling she wasn't the only one to hurt you."

At this point, a silent tear trekked down your cheek. You sniffled, dropping your gaze down. "I had an ex who used to make fun of my singing. He used to say 'at least you're pretty'. When we would ride together listening to music, he would tell me to stop singing and 'leave it to the professionals'. At some point, it just….it was better to not sing in front of anyone. So I only sang in the shower cause I thought no one would hear me."

Hvitserk turned your head, looking into your eyes. "Baby, listen to me. Your singing is incredible. We all love listening to you sing. Please don't be embarrassed about this with us."

"I'd love for you to walk around the house singing, I could happily listen to that all day." Ubbe said, a tender smile on his lips.

"I second that!"

"Sig, you're only here on Sundays." Ubbe glanced over at his brother.

Sigurd shrugged. "So? I could listen to her sing all day. Maybe she should move in with me and actually be appreciated."

"No! You're not stealing her from us!" Hvitserk said, practically cradling you against him, like a puppy afraid to lose its favorite toy.

"It's not stealing if she wants to go!"

Ivar butted in. "I am more interested in this other shitty ex and mother...can I find them?"

"No, Ivar. You have to stop threatening people."

"Why?" He whined at you, tugged on your hands, your legs still across his lap. "You won't let me teach them a lesson so all I can do is threaten."

"Also sounds like you have terrible taste in guys. Anymore shitty exes we should know about?" Sigurd asked, rocking his chair.

You figured at this point you were spilling all your dirty secrets so what was one more. "Um, I was talking to this one guy but when he found out I moved in here, he called me a whore for moving in with two brothers and told me I was a waste of his time." You softly admitted, having made sure none of them ever heard about that after it happened.

For a moment there was dead silence then….

"I'm going to need his name right now." Ubbe said, malice dripping off every word.

"Yeah! Let's cut his tongue out! See what he says about that!" Ivar cheered.

You could not stop the laughter that came out. The idea that these brothers got so worked up over anyone that ever insulted or hurt you was both sweet and slightly infuriating, but mostly sweet. No one had ever cared about you as strongly as these four brothers.

"It's fine now. How about this? Next guy to hurt me, I promise I'll give you his name."

"No! I want to cut this asshole's tongue out. Maybe slap him with it after!" Ivar smiled with a pure predatory look.

"I think you should just date one of us." Sigurd shrugged, watching everyone with a smirk. "Then you know he'd treat you right."

"I like this idea." Hvitserk smiled, squeezing you lightly. "We would romance the hell out of you."

"You guys are being silly. I don't even know what romance would look like." You giggled at the absurd idea. All the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and could pick up any girl they wanted, why would they want you? Besides, your relationships were just platonic. "Is the interrogation over now? Want me to leave so you can get back to your game?"

"Nope, you're stuck here." Ivar said, leaning on you now so you were sandwiched between the two brothers.

Ubbe chuckled. "We've told you before, you are welcome to hang out with us. Why don't we put in a movie?"

After many arguments and some mild threats, a movie was finally chosen. You settled against Hvitserk, facing the TV, as you played with Ivar's hair, his head now in your lap.

As you watched the movie, you missed the silent conversation between the brothers happening around you. It was decided that your next boyfriend would certainly be one of them and in the meantime, they were all going to romance the hell out of you and make sure you understood how important and incredible you are.

Starting with making sure you sang whenever you wanted.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ivars heathen army #ivar the boneless #ivar imagine #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson #sigurd #sigurd ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #vikings imagine #modern vikings #roommates #mzwrites

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doeilovr · 3 years

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Turn Back Time

-> Pairing: Lee Taeyong x femReader, special guest Kim Doyoung

-> Genre: Angst, Idol Taeyong au, Cheating au, break up au, a bit of smut (like 1 paragraph)

-> Warnings: cheating, cursing, suggestive themes, mention of sex, physical violence, self doubt

-> Summary: And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

-> Words: 2.6 k

Disclaimer: this is not how Lee Taeyong is at all! This is merely fiction! Cheating is also not okay, just be kind, people and love truthfully!

You knew something had changed, when you heard Taeyong walk into your shared bedroom.

He was out late again, working on choreography and writing lyrics at the studio.

A month ago he would have cuddled up to you in bed, pecking you on the cheek, before he would fall asleep with his arms wrapped around your body.

But he had stopped doing that and just got into bed as silently as possible, trying not to wake you up. You were awake though. Thinking about what had changed between you two.

In the morning you would get up before him, staring at him sleeping peacefully in your bed, regretting whatever you did wrong.

You were making breakfast for the both of you when Taeyong joined you in the kitchen, his blonde hair messy and his eyes sleepy.

“Good morning”, you smiled at him, tempted to stroke his hair. Taeyong’s cold expression brought you back to reality. “Morning”, he mumbled, grabbing an apple from the counter.

You wanted to tell him you made breakfast for him, but he was faster. “I’m going to the studio. It’ll be late, no need to wait for me”, he announced, not waiting for an answer and disappearing back into the bedroom.

Your stomach twisted, you just couldn’t understand what you did wrong. You weren’t even hungry anymore, putting the freshly cooked food in the fridge for another time.

You were determined to win Taeyong back, even if you didn’t know why you had lost him on the first place. Maybe he got tired of you because you never surprised him. Maybe he wanted you to be more spontaneous. With these thoughts in mind you bought coffee and made your way to the studio.

You entered the recording studio, knowing Taeyong was alone, as it was late already. He stood in the recording booth, practicing some random verses. He looked good, wearing a white tee and ripped black jeans. His blonde hair was messy, as he was constantly running his fingers through it.

To be honest, he just looked tired.

Your breath hitched in your throat, when he locked eyes with you. Taeyong put down the headphones and stepped out of the booth.

“What are you doing here?” He walked past you, pressing some buttons on the computer.

“I brought you coffee”, you smiled, placing the Americano down next to him. Taeyong side eyed you, noticing your black coat. You felt his hot gaze on your body, making your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, actually I’m not just here for that.” Carefully you pushed Taeyong down on the leather chair behind him. He let you guide him, intently watching your every move.

You placed a kiss to his soft lips, before you grabbed his hand, guiding it to open up your coat. It had been a while since you last kissed and you had missed him. The feeling of his lips against yours. Taeyong watched you with intense eyes, opening the coat to reveal a set of white lingerie.

You had bought it just for him and felt nervous to show yourself like this, since it had been a while you two last had sex. Or just any other intimate interaction.

You sat down on his lap, your eyes never leaving his face. Taeyong gulped visibly, before you placed another kiss on his lips, this time using your tongue. His hands roamed around your body and his member twitched beneath you. Fuck, he felt so good.

Your hand traveled down his chest, all the way to the button of his jeans. You stroked him through the fabric, making him inhale sharply. “I want you, Taeyong”, you whispered, a sudden desperation in your voice.

There was a flicker in Taeyong’s dark eyes, his hand moving to yours and grabbing it quickly. Just when you thought you got through to him, he removed your hand from his crotch, pushing you off his lap.

You stepped back, watching him with sad eyes. Did he really not love you anymore?

Taeyong got up, cursing under his breath. “Don’t fucking do that”, he mumbled, his eyes moving quickly.

“Taeyong-“, you tried to reach out to him, but he moved past you and got back into the recording booth. You felt so vulnerable, closing the jacket and hugging yourself.

Was that it? Was that how you broke up with him? Why couldn’t he just explain himself or at least talk to you? You wiped away a tear that threatend to run down your cheek and left the room.

In a quick pace you moved down the long corridor, making your way to the exit, while trying to calm down. On your way around a corner you bumped into someone’s chest.

“Y/n?” Doyoung smiled down at you. You greeted him quickly and hoped he wouldn’t notice your glistening eyes.

“Are you here for Taeyong?” You started shaking your head vigorously, trying to smile back at him, but you looked rather awkward.

“I’m on my way out, actually.” Doyoung’s smile faded a bit. He just knew you too well, sensing that there was something wrong.

“Everything alright?” He furrowed his brows. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just tired”, you waved your hand around. “I’ll get going now, see you around.” Doyoung nodded, waving goodbye to you and watching you walk away.

Something for sure wasn’t right. You didn’t look happy at all. And Doyoung wondered why?

Back home you cried yourself to sleep. You loved Taeyong too much, how could he so easily turn away from you? That night he didn’t come home at all.

You just got out of the shower the next evening, when Taeyong texted you. You hadn’t heard from him the whole day and felt beyond disappointed. He could have so easily talked to you, but he chose to ignore you. “I’m out with the boys”, the text read. You didn’t reply and went on with getting ready for bed.

You were lying awake for way too long now, taking a glance at the clock to see it was not even midnight yet. Your phone suddenly rang, it was Doyoung.

“Hey y/n”, he greeted.

“Doyoung.” You often talked over the phone like this, but it had become less and less after Taeyong distanced himself from you. You felt weird being around his friends without him, which was stupid to be honest, as they all seemed to like you a lot.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” He gasped a little, probably just now realizing how late it was.

You chuckled. “No, don’t worry.” It felt good to talk to him again. “Are you also at the club?” You were curious. Honestly you just wanted to know if Taeyong had maybe talked to them about you. Who knows, maybe he was more talkative with them than with you.

“What do you mean? Who’s at the club”, he asked confused.

You chuckled nervously. “Taeyong told me he was out with you guys.”

Doyoung was quiet for a moment. “No. Taeyong did go out, but not with any of us. He went out with Jia, she’s collaborating with him, I don’t know.”

Your heart sank and you sat up in your bed, turning on the lamp. “What”, you mumbled. “Which club?”

“Pretty sure they went to Octagon. Is everything okay, y/n? You know you can tell me”, Doyoung reminded you softly.

You bit down on your lips, emotions washing over you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going back to sleep now”, you lied. Doyoung didn’t ask any further questions and said his goodbye before hanging up.

You sighed, dropping the phone on the bed. Taeyong lied to you. He had lied. But why? Did he cheat on you? Was he cheating on you right now?

He was. In the past week, while you were waiting at home, doubting yourself and everything you ever did wrong, he was with Jia. So he was now. In the club, dancing and making out with her, trying to get you out of his head.

That’s how you found yourself standing in front of the club the same hour. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. To your luck, Doyoung showed up too, knowing damn well something wasn’t right. He got you in the club and searched for Taeyong with you.

When you finally spotted him you didn’t feel shocked or mad. No. You were sad. Sad, disappointed and broken-hearted. You still loved this man after all, even if you saw him cheating right here and in front of your eyes.

“Y/n”, Doyoung mumbled, following your gaze to Taeyong. Despite the loud music you could hear him clearly. Doyoung couldn’t believe his eyes either. Taeyong was cheating with Jia. His best friend was cheating on his other best friend.

Fuck.

“You knew?” Doyoung stared at you wide eyed, feeling nothing but empathy.

You nodded, tears prickling in your eyes. Seeing him make out with her so easily made you feel sick. You never thought Taeyong was able to hurt you like this.

You always thought the best of him. He was so caring. You didn’t know where it went wrong, but suddenly he treated you like you were the worst person ever. He replaced you and seemed to not even feel bad about it.

Walking towards Taeyong your steps felt heavy. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer, he didn’t love you anymore. He hurt you and you wanted him to know that.

Stopping in front of him you waited until Taeyong caught your figure next to him, immediately staring at you with wide eyes. He almost pushed Jia back, startling her, before she also noticed you standing there.

Unlike him, she didn’t look fazed at all. You wondered if she even knew you were his girlfriend. You barely held back your tears and your voice was shaky.

“Whatever I did to you, I’m honestly sorry. I hope you’re fucking happy now.” You stopped for a second, taking in Taeyong’s face one more time, his shocked expression.

Quickly you disappeared in the crowd, making your way to the exit, Doyoung running behind you. As you got out of the club, the fresh air hit your face. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, as you slowly walked down the alley.

Doyoung came up next to you. “Are you okay”, he mumbled, putting a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t look okay. And he hated seeing you this broken.

Another voice called your name and you both turned around to find Taeyong angrily walking up to you. “Y/n”, he shouted.

He looked so angry and for what reason. Doyoung quickly stepped between the two of you. “Taeyong, fucking leave her alone”, he shouted, but Taeyong only pushed him to the side.

“You fucking knew”, he shouted at you and you stepped back, scared. “What sick game are you playing”, he added.

Now you got angry too, poking his chest with your index finger angrily. “I defended you all this time. I made up stupid excuses for you and your behavior, when you didn’t even have the guts to talk to me. This is so fucking low Taeyong, even for you”, you shouted back.

“Please, you’re obsessed with me. You even show up in the same fucking club, knowing I’m with someone else. You’re a pathetic bitch.” You saw the change of expression in his eyes as soon as he said the last words.

“Y/n-“ his face softened and he tried to reach out for you, but you quickly interrupted him, slapping him across his face.

Out of reflex, Taeyong shoved you to the ground and you landed on your butt. You gasped, finding yourself sitting on the cold asphalt. Taeyong realized what he just did and wanted to help you up, but Doyoung had already rushed to you side.

“Y/n are you okay?” Doyoung grabbed your hand. You couldn’t help but burst out in tears, letting Doyoung help you up. “Please take me home”, you whispered and he quickly nodded.

Taeyong watched you two walk away, Doyoung sending him a death glare as you both turned around.

He couldn’t believe how far he had went. He hated himself so much for hurting you. He had hurt you with cheating and now he had even hurt you physically. Taeyong never wanted this to happen either. He had been tired for a long time, stopped giving you attention and touching you. But you did the same.

When Jia came to the studio, flirting non stop, he just let her. He would mindlessly fuck her until you would give him attention again. But when the time came around and you did, he had grown tired of you, too.

He hated himself and he had projected it onto you until he hated you too.

You thanked Doyoung at the entrance to your apartment, watching him drive off with the taxi, before you entered the building. Unlocking the door, you walked inside, immediately aiming for the bedroom, just wanting to go to sleep.

You were shocked seeing Taeyong in your room, examining a picture of you two together. He turned around, looking at you. For the first time in weeks he looked as sad as you. As hurt as you.

“Y/n can we talk, please”, he asked gently, moving towards you.

“It’s too late, Taeyong.”

“I love you so much”, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“No, you don’t. If you love someone you don’t ignore them, or hurt them or cheat on them. You hate me Taeyong. And I don’t even know why”, your voice cracked before you could finish your sentence.

“No, y/n. I don’t hate you.” He stepped closer again, taking a hold of your hand. “I hated myself so much. I was so sick and tired of everything. I let it all out on you. And I’m honestly so sorry. I love you so much, please.”

You cried more, your heart hurting in your chest. His fingers stroked over the back of your hand, a feeling you had been longing for for such a long time.

“You cheated on me, Taeyong”, you whispered.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, to hold back tears. “I don’t have any feelings for her. Please, y/n. Believe me, please.”

“It hurts, Taeyong. I gave you my heart and you threw it away just like that.”

Taeyong’s other hand moved to cup your face, wiping away the tear that had left your eye. “I didn’t. My heart belongs to you, you’re the love of my life.” He paused, breath shaky. “I have no excuse. Cheating on you was wrong in so many ways. I started because I thought I would find my love for you again. But fuck, I realized it was never gone in the first place. I never want to hurt you again, y/n.”

You cried out one more time, before stepping forward and hugging Taeyong tightly. He immediately pulled you closer, rubbing your back and kissing your head.

“I love you so much”, he whispered over and over again.

After a while, you pulled away from him again, sniffling and wiping your tears away.

Taeyong was all you had and wanted, but his actions scarred you deeply. You looked up at him, pecking his lips softly. It was lovely moments like this you wanted to last forever.

And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

But sometimes it’s not meant to be. You would find someone else, someone that would love and appreciate you, even if times were tough.

And maybe one day you’d be someone’s world. And maybe Taeyong would be someone else’s.

a/n: I rewrote this so many times lol I hope you enjoy it. It was my first attempt on smut so please bear with me. I’d also appreciate any feedback <3

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91percentpynch · 3 years

Text

jean moreau x pride months

happy pride month kids, here‘s some wholesome jerejean content for your soul!! does this make any sense? no. is it a mess? yes. hope you enjoy this!!

the first pride month

it‘s the beginning of june and jeremy starts acting weird

he smiles more, the real smile normally reserved for winning an exy game or when he‘s alone with jean

he started drawing flags on his face or on his eye lids, jeremy never wore make-up, not more than his usual eyeliner and nail polish

„what does that mean?“, jean asks, pointing at the flags on his cheeks.

„the pink, yellow, blue one means i‘m pan. you know, i like more than one gender, i told you that already. and the grey, purple, white and black one that looks like an arrow? that means i‘m demisexual, you know how i only feel sexual attraction to people i have a bond with? that‘s demisexual. those are pride flags, it‘s pride month. didn‘t you know that?“

of course jean didn‘t know, after all he was locked up in a bassement for 10 years and he didn‘t exactly talk the first time he came over here last year at the end of june.

„what‘s pride month?“, jean asked softly, knowing that jeremy would never judge him, never think he was stupid.

„it‘s a month for lgbtqa+ folks. that stands for lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgender, questioning, asexuals, aromantics and everything inbetween. we celebrate ourselves this month, show how proud we are of ourselves and our community. we celebrate marsh johnson, the black transgender, gay sex worker who started the riots, stonewell, and basically threw a brick at a police officer and started the fight for gay rights“

„how do you know you‘re not straight?“, jean asked quietly. thinking about the way his mind keeps wandering back to jeremy, keeps wandering back to the thought of kissing him, holding his hand, the feeling of his soft, badly dyed ginger hair between his fingers.

„well i always payed more attention to the personality, than the gender. i never really cared what‘s between the legs. and it took me quite a while to figure out that i only feel sexual attraction to people when i have a connection to them“

„have you ever kissed a guy?“, jean asked, curiously now. in the nest it was forbidden, but kevin wanted to try it once, in the dark of the night, the saftey of their room. jean couldn‘t tell if he enjoyed it or not, he never really felt any kind of attraction really. only bone deep fear. burning anger. and whatever the fuck his heart was doing when kevin held him close.

„yeah, i had a boyfriend throughout highschool, sophmore year until the end of summer of our senior year. and then freshman year of college i had this girlfriend who was really controlling and yeah. that‘s it. have you?“, his voice was soft, it reminded jean of the sunlight forming some kind of halo behind jeremy.

„kevin wanted to try it once. riko caught us. that‘s how it began“, jean replied, a shadow crossing over both his and jeremy‘s face. in a moment of weakness, at the beginning, jean told jeremy what they did to him in the nest, after jeremy accidentally touched him from behind.

„do you want to try it again?“, jeremy asked, a small smile on his lips. „with me, that is“, he added, barely audible.

„okay“, jean replied, leaning in.

jean was a couple inches taller than jeremy, and jeremy had to stand on his tiptoes to close the last few inches between them.

it was a soft kiss, a different than the stolen ones from kevin. better. these tasted like sunlight, like warmth, like home.

jean kissed jeremy back. carefully, softly, being scared he would break him, destroy him with his darkness.

„how was it?“, jeremy smiled at him after they were done, exchanging kisses, not stealing them. they were equals, no one would hurt him for wanting this

„i think i‘m only attracted to you“, jean admitted quietly. „but like not sexually. i don‘t like sex. never did. i never thought anyone was sexually attractive, i never wanted this and i still don‘t. i‘m sorry“

„you don‘t have to apologize, jean. that‘s being called asexual, the lack of sexual attraciton that is. and the not wanting sex part? sex repulsed. very valid. i will never be like them, i will never force you to do anyhting you‘re not comfortable with“

„and what if you miss having sex and want it and i can‘t give it to you?“, jean asked, tears burning behind his eyes. „i‘m not worth of your light, your warmth, your love as it is. i‘m broken, i‘m dark, i‘m everything you don‘t deserve. you deserve someone who is fixed and happy and can give you the entire world and go places without a panic attack and and and“

„ssh, jean. it‘s alright. it‘s alright. i want you. no one but you. i really, really like you and i am glad you like me to. you‘re not broken, you‘re not dark. you are wonderful. and no one is fixed, we‘re all a little broken in our own ways. i struggled with an eating disorder. i have adhd. sometimes i feel a little sad without any reason and can‘t get out of bed. sometimes i can‘t sleep and other days i could sleep for days. i don‘t need the entire world, i just need you“

it was this june, about a year after jean arrived in california, that he not only found a person who saw more in him than his scars, but a person who loved him not despite of them but for them

the second pride month

it‘s been a year since jean and jeremy kissed for the first time. a year full of highs and lows, fights and making up, miscommunication and cuddles, sweet kisses and ones tasting of tears. but it was also the year jean figured out that he might not be a boy after all.

„do you ever feel like you‘re not a entirely a boy?“, jean asked softly, threading his fingers through jeremy‘s soft blonde hair.

„dude, i‘m genderfluid, remember? alvarez bursted in our room and threw these in our face so people could refer to me with the right pronouns“

„that‘s why you changed your middle name to sol isn‘t it? because you like the sun and you like your hispanic heritage and it‘s a female name?“

„exactamente mi corazón“

„what are you today?“, jean asked softly, as he did every day.

„they/them, i don‘t feel like a guy or a girl today. just vibing“

„i- i think i‘m not entirely a boy either. like i know i was born as a boy and i‘m okay with that. but i feel like there‘s more to that. i can‘t put it in words but i think i want to try to go by he/ they. what do you call those people who don‘t quite find in the binary? i think i‘m that“

„that‘s nonbinary darling. i‘m proud of you. you‘re doing great“

jean didn‘t know how to repeat to that so he just decided to pull jeremy closer to him.

this pride month jean found a little part of himself, another puzzle piece to the mystery that his own person and it felt like a tiny little step towards a future he never dreamt he would have.

it was also the month he started wearing nail polish, because he loved the look on jeremy‘s face when they did them. occasionally he will wear some eyeliner.

the third pride month

another year passed, this year jean got himself a support dog. to help with the anxiety attacks. to help him heal.

it‘s a dalmatiner, called luna. she was trained to feel when he is uncomfortable and come closer to him, licking his hands, being close, being there

it is also the month he wanted to join jeremy for pride

„what are you today?“

„a girl i think. jeremy or sol are both fine“

„will you draw the flags on my face?“, he asked on the day of the parade.

„are you sure you want to go honey?“, sol asked softy, while she went to the bathroom to get her things.

„would i have asked if it wasn‘t moi amour?“, jean replied. „wait hold on, don‘t answer that“, he laughed looking at jeremy‘s face.

„but i‘m sure. first of all it makes you happy. second of all you missed it the last two years. third of all it will piss kevin off and i love that almost as much as i love. and lastly i have luna, she makes sure i‘m fine and i can always leave when i feel uncomfortable“

„okay, babe. what do you want me to do?“

„i want my flags on my face and maybe you can do my nails“, jean replied, smiling at jeremy as he did ever so often. „cover the tatoo, will you?“, he asked softly, touching the cursed three, counting the days for his cover up appointment in july.

„it‘s soon gone honey. it‘s gonna be alright“, jeremy whispered, feeling the tension in jean‘s shoulders.

„which color do you want your nails? mine are pastel rainbow look! alvarez got me those for my birthday last month! do you want matching nails?“

„whatever you want darling, you can choose“

„neat!“

this year jeremy‘s hair were a soft pink. it was 2 am when he bursted into the room whisper shouting „jean i‘m gay i must do something drastic to my hair. help me?“ and who was jean to question his beautiful date mate.

so jeremy took jean‘s face carefully in his hands, starting to draw jean‘s pride flags (demiromantic, asexual, nonbinary) on his face, hiding his tattoo underneath the black/ white/grey/ purple stripes of the asexual pride flag.

„they have no power over you anymore mi corazón. and if anyone gives you shit i will come for them“, jeremy whisperes against jean‘s lips before softly kissing them. „and now give me your beautiful hands so i can do your nails. i‘m feeling a pastel rainbow“

for the parade jean is wearing one of the shirts jeremy got him. it‘s yellow with a rainbow on it. „so you have a little brightness in your life“, he would tell him when he go it for him. it was before they started dating. it was before jean was able to tell him „but you are the brightest thing in the world and somehow you chose me as your person“, paired with light blue ripped jeans and his yellow fans. they started wearing yellow when they came to california, cutting off black completely, replacing it with colors and brightness.

jeremy on the other hand wore rainbow dungarees with a white shirt and white doc martens. his hair was up in two space buns, little pride flags put into them.

„do you think they get the hint?“, she smiled with a blinding smile.

„you‘re so unbelieveably beautiful sol“, jean replied.

they got luna and went to the parade.

it was scary, yes. but it was also beautiful.

people approaching them, asking for selfies, talking to him.

at first he was a bit anxious, but sol took their hand and luna licked his feet and it was alright. no one was hurting him. no one would punish him. he was surrounded by pride and love and happiness.

at some point he asked a girl with rainbow hair, she reminded him of renee, if she could take a picture of him and jeremy. she said yes, took one of them smiling, one of them kissing, and one of them where jeremy just smiled at his person.

it was the pride month he came out via social media. it was the pride month kevin called at two am, telling him how happy he was for them. that he himself found a boy, fell for him, but is too much a coward to do something about it. it‘s the year where he gets a lot of love, many fans telling him how proud they are of him and at least the same amount of hate. but it was alright. they had jeremy and that was all that truly mattered.

now

year after year they returned to the pride parade, with flags on their faces, or around their shoulders

sometimes neil and andrew or aaron and kevin would join them, sometimes they would go with laila and alvarez and sometimes jean and jeremy would go on their own

after college jean quit exy, jeremy went pro and gave his money to moriyamas, while jean opened his own tattoo studio, wrote songs, wrote crappy poetry and slightly better novels, tried himself as a part time model and fashion designer

they found happiness and home in each other and celebrated their love not only in pride but also every single day of the year

jean and jeremy got more dogs, an apartment of their own with big windows so they could watch the sunrise and sunset together

they have their ups and downs, like every other couple, but that doesn‘t matter. never did. what truly matters is that they keep finding back to each other. that they keep ending up in the same bed, in each others arms.

jean moreau never believed in love, never believed in soulmates and yet he found their soulmate, found the love of his life. and they are happy they stayed, kept fighting, to find this. to make a difference to the world. to be finally free. to be alive, living instead of only existing.

„jean?“, jermey says, fidgeting with his fingers.

„what is it moi soleil?“, jean relies getting lost in these ocean blue eyes.

„do you remember what happened five years ago?“, jeremy asks, his eyes looking anywhere but jean.

„we kissed for the first time?“, jean answers, panic slowly crawling through his veins.

„exactly so i thought we could celebrate this at the beach. you know, where our first date was?“, jeremy says nervously.

„honey are you alrighgt?“, jean is getting more and more worried, jeremy has never been that nervous.

„sure, come on mi corazón“

so jean slowly gets up and carefully puts on his shoes. something is weird here, something is wrong

jeremy seems off the entire ride to the beach they had their first date at.

when they arrive jean takes jeremy‘s hand, noticing that they are shaking ever so slightly. it is something like a nervous tick of them.

jean and jeremy arrive at the beach in time to watch the sun setting, making place for her lover the moon.

jean looks over to jeremy, when they suddenly get up and start pacing.

„jer, you‘re scaring me. please tell me what‘s going on up there“, jean says touching his head lightly.

„okay. i can do this“, jeremy mumbles as he gets down on his knee. „jean moreau, you are the love of my life. the light of my existence. ever since i saw you for the first time i knew i liked you, more than i was supposed to. i never dared to hope you would ever like me, or love me for that matter, but somehow you did. somehow you didn‘t turn away when i told you i‘m demi or pan or genderfluid. you stayed. you supported me. you love me. and i want to spend the rest of my life with you, so do me the favour and in the name of god, should they exist, do me the favour and marry me“

jean feels tears running his cheeks. „of course i will marry you, you loser“, he laughs, as he pulls jeremy down to him and connects their lips together. and it feels like their first kiss. it always does. and they would do that for the rest of their lives.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #jeremy knox #jean moreau #jerejean #jeremy knox x jean moreau #ship: jerejean

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closetedotaku01 · 3 years

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Tsukishima Kei - Cold Winter Mornings

Seasons of Love Masterlist

A/N: For all those who love Tsukishima Kei, I hope this keeps you warm

You’d always managed to change his mind on things like this. His hatred of PDA quickly evolved into a genuine desire to always be holding your hand, to kiss your cheek when you were being too adorable to resist, a preference for the back seats that bent his legs awkwardly so he could press his thighs up to yours. He can’t seem to help it. The way his patience is extended when he can watch you browsing through the bookshops. The way he has almost developed an addiction to that trashy TV show you’re addicted to. You’ve affected him. Taken hatred and annoyances and the displeasing parts of reality that always felt like inevitabilities, into the parts of life he most looks forward to.

But more than anything, Tsukishima hates the cold. He’s always been the cold one, forced to bundle up in extra layers, always caught rubbing his hands together before shoving them into his fleece-lined pockets.. Forced to wear gloves and scarves at a slight chill.

When he was young he was embarrassed of wearing ear muffs in autumn, so he chose to wear headphones to cover his ears, keeping his hands in his pockets. It was what helped him learn about his love for music, and it’s what helped him keep his distance from most people once he learned that was a necessity for his… safety.

Waking up those first few mornings as autumn shifted to winter, as the chill transformed into a burning freeze, were always the worst. He’d wake up with his bones aching, curled tight on himself, and then he would be forced to exit his bed. Put on a hoodie he used for cold night pajamas, throw on some socks, and turn the heater up. But by the time he did all that the bed would be cold again.

Like everything else though, you had a habit of changing his mind.

~~~~

Another morning he was forced to wake up early. Ripped from his dreams by the cold nipping at the skin exposed by shifting in the night. He should have closed the curtains last night. He’d do anything that might even mildly help keep the room warm. He got out of bed, shivered at the feeling of cold against his feet, and fixed the room to better fit his needs.

Crawling back into bed though, he was happy. Because you were there. Gorgeous and peaceful, and as he climbed back in…. the bed was still warm.

“Kei,” you whined, “you can’t leave bed when it’s this cold.” You pulled him farther into your warmth and rubbed his back, under his hoodie to warm him up. “Why are you wearing a hoodie?” you ask, annoyed by the extra fabric keeping you from his skin, but still tucking your head into his hoodie.

“I’ll take it off when you’re done warming me up,” he teased, welcoming the cold with a warm smile.

~~~~

“What’re you doing?” He asked, exhaustion keeping his eyes closed and his voice quiet.

“Playing with your hair,” you whisper as you continue to thread your fingers through the messy blonde tangles, shying away slightly embarrassed that he woke up at your ministrations.

“What’s your weird obsession with my hair,” he asks, nuzzling closer to you so you know that despite his teasing he’d never want things to be different.

“It’s so soft,” you say, brushing his bangs away from his face, and placing a soft kiss to his forehead.

His arm glides up your arm, resting behind your neck, before he pulls you down to kiss your lips, “Okay.”

His body relaxes again, his hand slipping down to your hips, as he enjoys the feeling of your hands, the sweet, familiar movements. Scratching gently at his scalp, carding through tangles, weaving your finger into his hair. It’s so relaxing.

It slips without him realizing, the cold forcing out honesty, “I could stay like this forever.”

He tries to think of something cool to follow up. A way to tease you. But his mind is too flustered in the early morning to have a good aspersion to toss at you.

“I could, too,” you say back.

He’s not sure if it was intentional, or if the early morning was also drawing the words out of you… but he loved hearing it. He sits up, your lazy hand falling from his hair, sliding down his cheek gently before landing on his chest. He smiles at how easy your touch is now. How it’s gone from something he overthought.. something he’d spend hours poring over, something that caused anxiety to well up in him… into the only thing he always trusted to calm him down.

He doesn’t want to move. Especially not when you look… so perfect. But he does anyway. He swings his legs off the bed, wincing at the cold that immediately clings to him, sucking away the warmth he’d stolen from you in the night, a short hiss leaving his lips.

You grab his wrist, “Hey! I thought you said you could stay like this forever. Where’re you going?”

He chuckles at your sleepy whines, “Turning up the heater. It’s freezing.”

You slide your fingers up to his elbow, and pull down. Hard. He crashes back into the bed and you giggle as you pull him toward you, “Then you better cuddle close.”

He couldn’t help it. The words fell before he could think better of them. He was too focused on the way you smelled as he tugged his body into yours. Too focused on the way the worn fabric of his tee shirt felt softer between his fingers when you wore it. Too focused on the way you slid your feet between his, locking your ankles with his. Too focused on your warmth.

“God, I love you.”

He didn’t even notice what he’d said. He didn’t notice until he felt every muscle of your body… every muscle that was pressed against him… tense.

“Kei… did you— it’s okay if it just slipped. I know it’s early… and it’s… it’s easy to get carried away in nice moments. But… did you … did you mean it?” Your voice is broken, and he hates that his mind is racing. Too much. Way too much. He can read you so well. But of course now is when his brain gives in. Too tired to detect anxiety or hope or if it was breaking because sleep was still heavy on you. Was it his heartbeat that was pounding so hard and fast? Was it yours? Why could he feel that thrumming everywhere. Throughout his whole body. Hearing each beat loud in his ears as coursing hot embarrassment raced through his veins.

And despite every bone in his body telling him to do otherwise… he could never lie to you.

He took in a shaky breath, but his words came out certain, “Yeah.” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head to keep himself calm, “ I meant it.”

Did he ruin it? Did he lose y—

“I love you, too.”

The second it took for you to process his words and to smile before responding... that was the longest second of his life.

The rest of that morning is a blur.

He remembers saying those three words a lot, simply because he felt like he could. He remember each and every time you said them back. The way you shaped your lips to turn the cold morning into burning heat, fluttering in his chest. He remembers the way you sent everything in him on edge. He remembers kissing you a lot. More than he’d normally let himself. Your forehead and cheeks and nose and every bit of you his lips could reach without moving because he was, in that moment, truly intent on making that morning last forever.

~~~~

Waking up next to you was always a reward. A blessing. A sign that, no matter what it felt like, he was pretty damn lucky.

But of course the cold was still bitter.

You were already sitting up, stretching your arms above your head, letting out that beautiful, tired sound he’d grown addicted to as his shirt rises to expose a sliver of your skin to the cold. It’s a sound he fully intends to hear every morning until the end of his days. Not that he’d tell you that. He usually feigned sleep while you stretched just so you’d never find out.

You knew. No one smiles like that in their sleep. And his eyelids have a way of fluttering to betray his attempt.

You start shuffling to get out of bed. And he hates the cold that he knows will rush in as soon as you’re out of the bed.

He never wanted to ask you to stay in bed. It was… too pathetic. Too clingy. It was a sign of desperation and he didn’t need you knowing how much he needed you. Not yet anyway.

But… the mornings leave him defenceless, walls down, doors open. Vulnerable. Completely bare to the warmth only you can give, or fully open to the biting cold. He already knows he’ll regret it. Knows that this is not the right move. The cool move. The move that’ll keep you swooning for him. But he can’t help it.

He wraps his body around you again. Tight. Close. “Not yet.”

You break away from him and the cold that sneaks between your body and his is deadly. He wants to pull you again. Tangle his legs with yours, hook his arm tighter around your waist and mold your back into his chest until not even you could tell where you end and he begins. But that’s not what he does. It’d hardly be the suave move. Not the move of the cool, stoic guy you’d been so enchanted by. He’d ask again if it wasn’t so pathetic.

He lets you go. Clinging to the warmth in his hand as it slides down your body and then off your hip as you finally finish sitting up. But the world warms again as you turn over, facing him, and burying your face into his chest. Throwing your arm over his body, your leg over his hip, holding tight to his warmth. “Not yet,” you repeat back to him, voice raspy and high from the sleep stuck in your throat.

You pull the comforter higher over his shoulder so his back is properly covered as you let yourself melt into his warmth.

He could get used to the cold with you.

~~~~

You wake up cold. Freezing actually. You turn around and reach out for the man you adore. The one who was surely hogging the covers in the corner as you froze on the other side of his bed. But he wasn’t there. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you try to piece together where he could be. He went to bed with you. He fell asleep before you. Maybe he had to pee? You turn to see the bathroom light off, no sounds coming from the dark room.

You get out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you head out of the bedroom.

“Kei?” you ask the darkness.

You hear his voice. A swear whispered under his breath. You find him under the tree, glowing by the fairy lights with three gifts, wrapped in paper you two hadn’t bought together, that he was trying to arrange.

You look at him questioningly, but he gives you no response aside from wide eyes.

“It’s cold,” you say, reaching your hand out to him.

“Go to bed then,” he says back, quickly shoving the gifts farther under the tree.

“The bed’s cold too,” you say, pouting.

“I’ll be there in a second.”

You creep up behind him, and throw both your arms around his shoulder, blanket draping over both your bodies. You tuck your head into his neck. He’s barely able to make out the whispers mumbled against his skin, “You’re cold too.”

“Then go to bed so you can warm me up,” he teases, rubbing a hand up and down your arm to warm you.

“But I’m cold,” you say with a tired giggle at your own neediness for his warmth.

He sighs, “Okay then.”

He stays with you, you warming his back as he finishes putting the presents behind the tree. If you hadn’t caught him, you probably wouldn’t have seen them in the morning. Probably a surprise that he came pretty damn close to sneaking past you.

When he’s satisfied he hooks his arms beneath your knees and carries you on his back. He takes you to bed and lays you down gently before joining you under the covers.

He traced shapes into your back as he held you close, only thinking of how you came to him, when you were cold.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#Tsukishima #Tsukishima Kei #Kei Tsukishima #Tsukishima Fluff #Tsukishima One Shot #lila writes 💫#Happy belated holidays y’all #Tsukishima x reader #tsukki x you #Seasons of Love

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corrupt-fvcker · 4 years

Text

Annoying (Boba Fett x fem!Reader)

Annoying ( Boba Fett x fem!Reader )

Warnings: fluff, hurt with sorta comfort, mentions of blood, one (1) mention of an erection, naughty words

Word Count: 3.1K

Author’s Note: boba may be a grumpy boyfriend, but he’s pretty decent. reminder that requests are open and if you want to be added to my tag list the link is in my bio :)

Boba’s annoying.

Like, really annoying.

He’s always telling you what to do and when to do it, like he’s the boss of you or something.

Well, technically he did hire you as an onboard mechanic for the Slave I.

But that’s hardly the point.

Because after you reluctantly complete whatever (typically ridiculous) request he’s ordered you to do, he doesn’t show you ever a sliver of gratitude.

He’s constantly teasing you

Probably smirking smugly beneath his bucket whenever you avoid his gaze after a particularly cheeky comment.

You swear that he's going to be the death of you if he doesn't shut the fuck up.

And he's an idiot, you're confident in this even though he always seems to be two steps ahead of you.

"If I'm an idiot, then what does that make you?"

The bitch that's about to roundhouse your ass.

"...shut up."

Boba's also big and green

Like a giant booger you decided.

Because calling him a Hutt would've been a direct insult to Jabba and all who hailed from Nal Hutta.

He's also stubborn.

Which you suppose is a good thing when it comes to his line of work.

But after the quarry's been captured and it's just you and him, you're usually about two minutes away from stranding him on the nearest inhabitable planet.

Boba — the annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot that somehow managed to get his grimy gloved fingers wrapped around your heart with a durasteel strength grip.

And despite his imperfections, you know he cares. He cares a whole lot, actually.

Which is why you're approaching the hour mark of being stranded in the middle of a giant forest.

The stars of the Corellia system moved across the night sky as you wait for your annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot of a boyfriend to find you.

It had started off as a joke.

Not a particularly good joke, but your goal wasn't to make him laugh.

Your goal was to get under his skin.

So you, being the natural-born genius that you are, decide to laugh when Boba oh-so-casually brings up that he is the best bounty hunter in the field.

And you should've dropped it when his helmet ticked to the side and he asked you what was so kriffing funny.

But you — the apparent brains of the operation — don't catch the hint and keep going.

"I mean, I think I could outrun you," you admit nonchalantly, not bothering to look up at him as you absentmindedly pick at a loose thread of your tunic. "Not to mention outsmart you."

You smirk because if Boba is anything but your annoying, stubborn, big, green, idiot boyfriend... he's egotistical.

Boba scoffs, a mixture of amusement and offense lacing his tone. "Yeah? That's what you think?"

You offer him a half-hearted nod, feigning indifference to the whole idea.

He doesn't say anything else after that, nor do either of you bring it up again.

You suspect that maybe he figured that you were just trying to get under his skin, but you didn't think that you could've bruised his ego so easily and truly gotten away with it.

But then all hell breaks loose and the joke that you had started morphed into a much more genuine issue.

An official bounty had been placed on your head, and the reward was quite charitable.

So now, you were hiding out in the middle of some random forest on Corellia as Boba hunts you down to put your survival skills to test.

Your goal is simple, make it back to the Slave I before Boba hunts you down and catches you.

And you had originally thought that it had been a good idea. If Boba, the best bounty hunter there is, can't catch you then hypothetically you shouldn't have to worry about other bounty hunters coming after you.

But you quickly came to regret your decision because now you're lost out in the middle of the forest, hugging some random tree.

You tried not to wander too far from the ship, knowing that you’d have to eventually find your way back.

But you also couldn’t stay too close, it’d be much easier for Boba to find you if you were in the first tree he sees.

You had no definitive way of knowing how much time had passed.

Even though Boba had told you when you landed, you had already forgotten how long a Corellian day was.

Logically, you knew that you couldn't have been waiting for more than an hour.

Though when your natural restlessness mixed with how uncomfortable your hiding spot was, you were convinced that you had been stuck in place for at least several hours.

You had settled yourself up in the branches of a towering tree. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, the bark digging into the soft flesh of your back, but it was endurable.

If you could hide, you could live.

It’s dark, You could barely see the forest floor from your hiding spot.

You weren't far from the ground, maybe a good twenty feet up.

Though you doubted that you’d be able to see Boba if he strolled past your tree.

He had the advantage, of course. Night vision ‘n all his fancy gadgets.

To make matters worse, it’s freezing.

You were itching to get the hell out of the forest and cuddle up on your cot.

But there was a tiny problem.

Boba was coming from the direction of the Slave I.

Which meant that with your luck, there was a very good chance that you’d run directly into him as you’re trying to get back to the ship.

You needed to get Boba off your trail first, get him lost in the jungle.

By the second hour of hiding in the ominous forest, you hear rustling leaves in the distance.

He’s close.

Thankfully, he’s not moving directly towards you.

But you can hear him drawing closer and closer, and you’re about to make a run for it and hope for the best.

And even though you know he’s not going to to hurt you, you’re still terrified.

You hear a twig snap just a few yards from your tree, you flinch.

And then he went silent.

And for a split second, your mind lets you think that he missed you.

But then, just a short distance away, you see it.

The subtle glow of a tracking fob.

He was waiting for something -- standing there, eyes searching for your figure in the darkness.

And then, he turns away, hesitating. Considering his options.

He moves a few paces east, thankfully away from your route back to the ship.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps, and begin to move. Quietly, making sure your movements did not betray you.

But that was your first mistake.

Not noticing that it was a trap.

You didn’t realize it until it was too late.

He’s racing after you now, heavy footsteps thudding against the forest floor.

And for someone weighed down by so much armor, he’s fast.

You’re sprinting.

Entire body burning as you make your way through the thick trees.

The world’s a blur as you run, your feet barely touching the ground as you speed through the forest.

He’s on your trail, hot and quick.

You just prayed that you had a good enough lead, maybe you could outrun him.

And just as the Slave I is in view you realize something.

You realize that you’re wrong.

Two strong arms plated with thick duraplast hook around your waist and yank you off your feet.

Air is ripped from your lungs as soon as the slope of your back slams against the armor covering the firm muscles of his chest.

And desperately, you suck sharply for the oxygen that was just knocked from your body but as soon as you manage to breath in, you are robbed once again as the two of you topple to the ground.

You hit the ground hard.

Your head snapping back as soon as your bodies hit the dirt and the only thing keeping your skull from splitting open against the forest floor is the way Boba tugs you against his chest.

“Fuck!” You grit through your teeth, not sure if it’s the pain of the fall or the disappointment of losing that’s bruised you more.

You don’t stop struggling, continuing to fight him as he wrestles you to the ground.

You’re panting, kicking, grunting, punching, swearing—

Boba... hasn’t broken a sweat.

He’s leaning over your and has got one of your arms craned behind your back, your face pushing into the dirt as you actively chose to ignore what seems to be a hard-on pressed into your lower back. Instead of dealing with his problem, you use what little strength you have left to swing your limbs at him.

THWACK!

You’re free hand collides with the dome of his helmet, and it nearly throws him off his game. You smirk— then you seethe in pain.

The skin of your knuckles cracks open upon impact of the duraplast, successfully hurting you more than it managed to inconvenience Boba.

“You kriffing—”

Your words catch in your throat as he suddenly flips you over, forcing you to face his stupid helmet.

He plops down on you, effectively pushing all the air from your lungs for the third time of the night.

He’s sitting on your stomach, gloved hands grasping your wrists as his legs pin down your own.

“Gonna need to put up more than a fight than that,” Boba growls through his modulator, easily restraining your struggling limbs.

"Fuck you.”

You might actually hate him.

No, you don’t.

“C’mon,” he croons mockingly, leaning forward just a bit so that his helmet hovers over your face. “Thought you said you could outrun me. Outsmart me? You got to have more fire in you than that, baby.”

Then you do something incredibly stupid.

Because — who are you kidding? — you’re not the brains of the operation.

You’re the stubborn one between the two of you (which is saying something), and Boba always knows which buttons to push.

You jerk upward, momentarily slipping your wrists away from his grip that loosened from surprise.

Your head slams into the front of his helmet, your forehead splitting open on collision.

But your pride outweighs your pain as you watch your boyfriend’s head snap back slightly with a strained grunt, effectively freeing your arms from his grasp.

With all the force you can muster, you shove him off of you before he can quickly recover and then you’re running.

Sprinting to the ship even faster than before, despite the heavy blood flow that is now running its course down the side of your face.

As soon as the soles of your boots make contact with the durasteel ramp, you collapse.

Toppling down to your knees in the safe zone because you’re so kriffing tired yet so relieved that you won.

The sound of Boba’s footsteps are right by your head as you carelessly sprawl out on the ramp.

“Fuck,” Boba snarls, suddenly invading your little safe zone.

You smirk because you know he’s pissed about losing to you.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?” Boba snaps, his gloved hands seizing each side of your face to make you look at his visor.

You’re bleeding.

Like a lot.

And you almost don’t have enough energy in you to brag.

“I won, old man,” you sigh dreamily, batting eyelashes as you blink away the dots spotting your vision.

Boba doesn’t even comment on the fact that you’re only a few years younger than him.

“Maker help me, you better not have a concussion,” Boba grumbles with an unamused grimace that’s concealed by his bucket, hauling you up from the ramp despite your protests and carrying you into the hull.

He’s completely silent as he cleans your trophy -- a small cut just below your brow that bled way too fucking much for its size. He sprays some bacta on it and covers it with a bandage, only speaking once all the supplies is put away.

“You need to take this,” Boba argues, his blood-stained gloves now discarded as he holds a few painkillers in his palm.

You shake your head. “It’s not serious. You’re gonna need those sooner or later.”

“You have a head laceration, it’s not gonna be long before you get a migraine,” Boba retorts, forcing your clenched fist open so that he can put the pills in your palm.

“No.”

Fuck, you’re stubborn.

His heavy sigh echos through his vocoder. “I don’t want to hear about how bad your head hurts in an hour.”

“You won’t,” you promise.

Though what’s he gonna do about it if you do? Lose another bet?

It doesn’t even take an hour for your head to start pounding in retaliation of your stupidity. Though you bite your tongue as you sit in the co-pilot’s seat, not wanting to get the “I Told You So” speech yet again.

You’ve been in hyperspace for about twenty minute, sitting with your legs criss-cross in the seat, your eyes closed and your head tilted back.

You hope you just fall asleep unintentionally so that you don’t have to get up again.

Every time you stand you think that your skull is going to burst from the incessant thrumming of your brain.

Thankfully it’s mainly dark in the cockpit, the only light coming from the buttons and stars.

“You don’t look so good,” Boba eventually mutters, a hint of something laced in his tongue.

“Gee, thanks,” you reply groggily, pinching the bridge of your nose as your brows furrow.

Just let me fucking sleep in peace.

“How’s your head?” You were too tired to figure out if it’s concern or smugness in his voice.

Probably both.

Definitely both.

“Do you have to talk so loud?” You complain lamely, opening your eyes to shoot a miserable glare in your boyfriend’s direction.

He snorts, shaking his head in spite of you before motioning you over with two fingers. His voice is low when he speaks.

“C’mere.”

You stare at him for a moment but the light is reflecting painfully off the dome of his helmet and you think that your brain is fucking bleeding.

“Don’t want to,” you reply, trying to play it off as disinterest rather than the inability to walk the three paces to sit in his lap.

When he doesn’t immediately react, you avert your gaze to stars and thank the Maker that you can finally close your eyes and have some peace —

A scoff crackles through his modulator, and you don’t open your eyes to glance in his direction as he stands from the pilot’s seat and moves.

Space is silent and his heavy footsteps ring throughout the cockpit and send vibrations through every bone in your body.

He inserts himself between your slightly parted legs and hovers there for a moment, you can feel his gaze searing into your flesh despite your lack of vision.

His scent is overwhelming — something masculine and spicy, fresh and clean.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He questions softly, leaning forward ever so slightly to cage you in between the co-pilot’s seat and his armor.

His bare hand cradles your cheek before trailing down to wrap around the nape of your neck.

Your eyelashes flutter open and you meet the ominous visor.

“Nothing.”

It’s a plain lie that’s so clear and plastic that it loses all the sharpness and edge that a true lie holds.

He shakes his head, eyes still trained on you. “Really? Nothing’s bothering you?”

This time you shake your head. “Nothing,” you repeat with more firmness.

Stubborn.

He nods thoughtfully, a hum rumbling through his helmet before straightening out, pulling away from you a bit.

You sigh out a small breath of relief, finally having the space to breath air that wasn’t him.

You let your eyelids slump shut again, though you should’ve know better than to think your stubborn boyfriend would leave you alone.

“Hey!”

He’s scooping you up in his arms, pressing you against his chest and moving before you can wiggle out of his grasp.

He’s still carrying you when he descends the ladder, you’re too disoriented to figure out how but he does nonetheless.

He flops you down on the bed, tugging your dirty shirt over your head.

Oh. Oh.

You mentally shrug because even with the pounding of your skull you wouldn’t mind a quick fuck before bed—

But then Boba presses his palm against your forehead and pushes you against the pillow — and you also then realize that he had only removed your dirty shirt so that you wouldn’t complain about the *germs* getting on your pillowcase (which causes acne, you dutifully remind him - not that his buckethead cares).

Though you give him credit where it’s due.

He’s being thoughtful.

He disappears without a word, returning only a few moments later.

He outstretches his hand to reveal three painkillers.

Thoughtful bastard.

You’re still lying flat on the mattress and your eyebrows furrow. “I said that I’m not—”

He tugs his helmet off his head with a short breath, tossing it haphazardly at the foot of the bed.

Sometimes you forget how beautiful he is beneath his green bucket.

Tanned olive skin, dark wavy hair that’s borderline shaggy, calculating eyes that glisten with mirth, and rosy lips that are tilted into a boyish smirk.

“They’re not for you, kid,” he grumbles teasingly before throwing the three pills to the back of his mouth before taking a single gulp of the glass of water that’s still beside your bed from the night before. “Now move over.”

It’s a miracle that you actually listen, scooting to the other side of the bed so that he can collapse on the mattress.

His arms drag you into his chest as soon as he settles, tucking the top of your head beneath his chin.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he utters, voice tainted from exhaustion but you can hear the adoration.

You smile softly, burying your face in his neck so that you can press a kiss to his collar.

“And you’re annoying.”

Good thing I love you.

#boba fett #bob morley #boba fett x reader #boba fett headcanons #star wars #self insert #reader insert #corrupt-fvcker #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fanfic #we love our green booger

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chernobylbaby04 · 3 years

Text

Manuel Antonio Guzman

I met Manuel Antonio Guzman when I was 14 years old. I told my grandparents I was going to hang out with my friend, Katie Franks. Katie and I went to our very first backyard show ever. It was in Anaheim across the street from Sycamore Jr. High. For those who know, it was when Riff Raff played (first time I met Zach, he was the naked drummer) and someone ripped the toilet out of the bathroom? Yep! That one. My grandma called me because she had figured out where I really was and I was in trouble. Katie went to school with someone who was senior at Anaheim High School, Pedro Garcia. Pedro drove at the time which meant he could give us a ride. The sooner Katie and I were back at home, the less trouble we would be in. Pedro pulled up to Sycamore Jr. High and I drunkenly opened the backseat door. A face appeared and they said, “Nope!” and pulled the door back closed on me. I was soooo PuNk RoCk and annoyed that I threw my little 32oz. Smirnoff Bottle on the ground and kicked the car. He opened the door and laughed and let me in. That was the first time I met Manny. He was funny, he was cute, he was weird, and he was older. A few short weeks later Pedro invites me to Punk Rock Picnic. I accompany him and Manny joins us. I spent the whole day with Manny. We rode a ferris wheel together, my shoe was falling apart and we went back to the car so he could sew it back together, all that jazz. A week later, Zone 3 was playing at the Riff Haus and my grandparents were nice enough to drop me off. Manny met me there and we snuck off back to his house. I knew Manny was 20 years old, and he knew I was underage. We kissed. We made out. We cuddled. We had sex. When we were done, we did the math of how many years it would take until I was 18. It was 4.5. I did not know what the relationship between me and Manny be, because Katie had told me he was seeing her friend named Taylor. Taylor also went to Anaheim High School. Taylor was 15 years old. The person I broke up with to be with Manny was my high school boyfriend, who I will leave nameless. He was hurt and upset and wanted to talk, but I did not give him the time of day. He came over to the house my grandparents and I had just moved into and climbed through my window. He pinched my pinky toe to wake me up. He was really upset but we decided to talk things out. Unfortunately, my grandmother heard a boy in my bedroom in the middle of the night and tried to come into my room. My ex-boyfriend snuck back out my window as my grandmother came in. I was officially kicked out. I called Pedro Garcia and I lived in his car for 2 weeks. This was far from the first time I had been homeless. When I was 13 years old I tried living with my mom because my grandfather would get really drunk and kick me out of the house. My family struggled with my grandfather’s alcoholism. He was a working class blue collar man who had broken his neck on a job site. For four years my family bounced from motel to motel. My grandmother worked cleaning houses to keep us afloat, and my grandfather spent his mornings drinking. He was violent when he drank and I got into the habit, young, to just leave. Sometimes I would stay with my mother, but she was always in and out of jail or did not have an actual place to stay. She abused drugs, would give me drugs, and have various men around. I really did not have family at the time. So being back on the streets was not anything new for me. I eventually told Manny after a few days that I was living in Pedro’s car, and he insisted that I stayed with him. A warm bed, food, and someone who paid attention to me was what every child needed. I did not get that in my home life, but I got it from him. I put him on a pedestal for taking care of me and we never talked about my age. This however did not last very long at all. A good mutual friend had a recently divorced mother with a three story house. Her name was Ms. Kitty. Ms. Kitty insisted a 20 year old’s bedroom was no place for a 14 year old girl. She took me in and I lived with her for 5 months. A few weeks into me living with Kitty, I caught Manny cheating on me with a girl names Melissa. He had a Myspace blog online that was meant to be private, but it was not. He said specifically, I can have Melissa one day, and Ashley the next. Instead of confronting him about this, I did what every 14 year old girl would do. I made out with my ex boyfriend!!! Childish, huh? Well, that’s because I was a child! Manny found out and to him and I both we call this the “Blog War Era.” Because for the next 2 months or so, Manny publically bashed me for being this self-serving slut. And me? I just dedicated a bunch of bad GG Allin songs to him. We eventually let it go, and I continued my life without talking to him. 5 months into me living with Ms. Kitty, I fell into a deep deep depression. I needed family, I hadn’t talked to my grandmother in months and she missed my 15th birthday. My heart was broken. I had severe abandonment issues. I had emailed my grandmother about how lonely and lost I felt, but she did not respond right away. One night, at 15, I decided I couldn’t go on, and I drank a bottle of sleeping aid, took various pills from Ms. Kitty’s medicine cabinet, wrote a letter, filled the bathtub up with water. Put tape on my mouth, cut my wrist, and waited to fall asleep. I had flashes of people pulling me out of the bathroom, of opening my eyes for small moments to see a different face looking over me each time, and to my grandmother and mother taking me home. No therapy. No medication. That same night, my grandparents went to the bar and did not come home for a very long time. I grew up with a sense of purposelessness. I grew up without self-esteem, and I grew up with severe abandonment issues. I lived with my grandparents off and on for a few more months but I started drinking and doing drugs more and more. April 1st, 2010, I moved out of my grandparents’ house again. I was living in and out of different parks, schools, and churches. A friend, Bailee Wilcox from my high school let me stay with her and her family. I lived there for 8 months. Bailee’s sister, started dating Pedro Garcia… and Pedro Garcia was best friends with Manny. Therefore, I saw Manny around a lot more. It was before my 16th birthday that Manny and I inevitably started dating again. We had a sexual relationship. A very sexual relationship. I would ditch school just to be with him, or he would pick me up from school in his ~cool~ 1999 Ford Mustang. Briefly, I caught him cheating on me again with a girl he had an online relationship with. Her name was Victoria. Victoria had a tumblr called fleeting-m00ns. She was 16 years old. Manny and I broke up briefly, for about a month. And he called me one evening and we met each other at the Airplane Park in Anaheim. He immediately held me, started kissing me, and asked if we could go back to his dad’s house. I was dumb, naïve, impressionable, and agreed. I wanted this dumb man to love me. I did not care about how much older he was than me or what those implications were. We went back to his house and we slept together. I was on my period. I went home to Bailee’s that night with Manny as my boyfriend again. Manny, at this point, was 21ish years old. As time went on, I decided to quit doing drugs, I did not drink as much, and I had a job working at the Brea Mall. The house I lived in was a party house so I spent less and less time there. Eventually that put a strain on the relationship I had with the people I lived with, as I spent less and less time there and would not come home. Manny insisted that it was not a healthy environment for me and that I should just stay with him; where I was not surrounded by people who did still party. I loved feeling protected and cared for. I allowed myself to abide by his wishes. If I chose to stay at my friend’s house, he insisted I was not allowed to go into the living room, I was only allowed to stay in the bedroom. I will provide a screenshot of the facebook message I received from not listening to his wishes. September 20th, 2011; “You stupid fucking bitch you can’t just fucking stay in the bedroom and away from the living room. You know I fucking hate it when you’re in there bt you never fucking listen because you’re always so fucking right and mighty and have to fucking be in the living room when you know what the fuck happens there. STOP IT. And never call me again from there, because when ou do, the first thing I’m going to ask is if you’re there, and if you’re fucking lying to me, I will never talk to you again.”I listened. I was afraid of him not staying with me, meant I truly had no one else in the world. I was very submissive. He preferred me to be submissive in the bedroom and in person. He would, what he liked to call, “fuck my face.” He would shove me up against walls (I will provide screenshots of that evidence as well), and use degrading language. There was no love making, or passion, or sensitivity. I did not know what normal relationships looked like. What I knew was he was my protector, I am safe when I am with him. That is all. I sabotaged the relationship I had with Bailee’s family and for those who have known me for a long time, knows what happened. I was homeless again. I could not go back home, I was 16, and I lived in Pearson Park. I dropped out of high school. Sometimes I would stay with my best friend, Danielle, and sometimes I would stay with my sister. Manny did not like me staying with my sister because he told me she was toxic for me. He did not like my sister and would treat her poorly when she was around. If I was at my sister’s house, Manny would shut me out, ignore, more or once told me to stay out of his life. I learned quickly who I was and was not allowed to talk to. If I had friends from my old high school, I wasn’t allowed to talk to them because they might ~be friends with Bailee.~ I was not allowed to go to backyard shows because he “feared for my safety.” I fed into all of it. I truly believed that no one else cared about where I was or who I was with. Manny was my only source of family, love, and protection. It was the way he wanted it. If I wanted to take the bus to work, he’d insist on driving me. If my shoes were falling apart, he would yell at me for not telling him so he could get me new ones. If it was raining, and I chose to walk, I would be in trouble for not asking for a ride. My entire relationship with him, I walked on eggshells. A good friend of mine, Joey, almost punched me in the face once because I faked punching him in his balls. It was a hilarious to me and Joey. Manny told me I was not allowed to talk to Joey anymore because he was supposedly abusive. If I wanted to see friends or family, I had to sneak around. (Thankfully he forgot about the Joey thing, and let me still see him, I did NOT remind him). Simultaneously, I would catch Manny cheating on me with various women. Grace, Angie, Janet, Rachael (Mouth, for those of you who know her). Once, Manny broke up with me at his house and was texting Mouth saying I was crazy and he was so happy to get rid of me. He told her he was sick of me and he needed to breathe. The next day was my birthday and he picked me up because we still had plans. He must of have been real horny because he asked for me back, fucked me twice, and I was expected to carry on like we never broke up. Every time, Manny would tell me that him cheating on me was only because he was under so much pressure of being an adult and taking care of me, a minor. He would say that if I truly loved him, I would never leave him. He would tell me that if I broke up with, I would have to move out of his house. I had to swallow all of it and keep going. Some nights, I couldn’t take it though. It was the first of me starting to “lash out” or what Manny calls, “psycho.” One night I bashed my head against a wall. Some nights, I would just leave and walk around for hours, then wait somewhere that I knew he would find me at. Just to be found. Just to be taken care of and cared about. There was a brief time that Manny went to Mexico for 3 weeks. We broke up online and I took it like a champ. I was so relieved. I used the time to focus on myself. I had already started going to Gilbert Continuation School, so I spent my time catching up on years of not going to school. Manny spent those 3 weeks on tumblr telling his followers that when he got back home from Mexico, he expects me to “respect his space.” And that he won’t, “deal with my bullshit.” People would comment on these posts supporting him because he painted me into looking like I was this obsessive monster. I will be including those screenshots as well. When he broke up with him, I wished him the best. The very hour Manny came home from Mexico, he SOBBED to me about how he was going to be a better boyfriend for me, and how he would never hurt me again and that he didn’t want to lose me. I was so hurt about how he painted me on the internet but I was NEVER EVER EVER EVER allowed to talk about it online or to friends because HE WAS A GROWN ASS MAN AND IF I SAID ANYTHING AT ALL, HE COULD GO TO JAIL. I took him back. Nothing changed. I ended up in Foster Care 6 months before my 18th birthday. Manny and I were still together. I was living in a group home and he was fucking a girl named Nicole. I had no idea. I protected his name from social workers and different foster parents I had. Eventually, Manny’s mother, Ofelia took me in. Bless her heart. She always told me, “I don’t see you as my son’s girlfriend, I see you as my daughter.” Her and I are still close to this day and I love her very much. Time went on, I turned 18, I entered transitional housing, and I got my own apartment. Manny was still cheating on me though. But now he didn’t have any more excuses. I wasn’t a teen anymore, he didn’t have to hide from authorities… This was just who he was. We broke up when I met Zach. I hated Manny. I hated him so much from years of what he put me through. As I got older and started to build a life for myself and build new relationships, I realized how much control I let him have over me. Who I was and was not allowed to see, what family I could or couldn’t talk to, what jobs I was or wasn’t allowed to have. All while he slept with other women both older and younger than me at times. But I still talked to Manny.One afternoon he brought up that while I was in the group home, he was sleeping with someone else. Manny brought up even proposing to me to marry him that day. He cried, he came clean, he said he took advantage of me and how sickened he was with himself. He said I was just a child and I deserved so much better. I cried… I even considered breaking up with Zach. I was just 18 and I never knew my life without Manny and I was so so so afraid to find out. I had this attachment, and he still had so much control over me. Then his phone lit up, and it was girl named Janet. The messages were dirty and sexual. I lost my absolute shit. I picked up a knife from a plate of cake that was in my room and I cut myself. I held It up to my throat and told him that if I died it would be on his conscious. Manny wrestled to get the knife out of my hands. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in there. Manny told me that if I did not let myself out of the bathroom he would kill himself. He was sobbing outside of the bathroom door and I wanted him to hurt. I did not care for one fucking minute what he did to himself. But I opened the door anyways. He pulled his phone camera out and started to record me. He started to narrate what was happening. He said, “really you’re going to hurt me? This is who you are, this is who she is…” So that he could have something to show people. So that he could tell people how crazy I was. I retorted by saying on camera, “tell them how old I was Manny, I was 14, tell them that, you’ll never tell the truth.” We did not talk for 4 years. I would occasionally look at his tumblr page and see what he would say about me. I’d occasionally get drunk and call and say something like, “you’re fucking stupiddddd” and hang up. Time healed, Zach and I made up.. We moved on. And I have been living my life ever since.Zach and I broke up, and I started dating someone else. It took me years to heal and I still am not there. I occassionaly still have suicidal tendencies. Or have the horrible habit to try and control the outcomes of situations. I still have abandonment issues.Manny sent me an email a year ago. Essentially wanting to talk things out. I agreed because I wanted a sense of validation. We met at the Continental Room in Fullerton. Manny showed up drunk. He immediately said, “you’re ass still looks just as good as the day I met you.” WHAT MANNY, WHEN I WAS 14??? BECAUSE THAT’S WHEN YOU FIRST MET ME. He said he learned “new things in the bedroom,” and asked me multiple times to go and get a hotel room with him. He made multiple attempts to kiss me. I politely left the continental room and left Manny alone. That’s all I needed, validation. Yep, Ash, Manny is a creep, it wasn’t all in your head. He had hit me up and asked if he left his ID in my car. He emailed me saying he doesn’t remember what happened that night and that he thinks we’re “cool now.” I will include that email as well. Manny also sent me an email admitting he lied to people about me trying to stab him. So!!! Did I try and stab him? No, I did not. Do I wish now? Hahaha, no. But really…And you know what, I confronted him about all of this. And he agreed, he said, in the end of all of this, he was an adult, and I was a child. I told him it wasn’t right for me to threaten suicide, but to NEVER EVER leave out the part that he was a rapist, and he said he wouldn’t. And a year later, after he tried to sleep with me, he comes to all of you to tell you that I was a psycho crazy ex stalker and that he fears for his life and BLAH BLAH BLAH. It’s fucking boring. Manny, I’m sorry trauma serves you in a way where your memory is fuzzy. But my trauma NEVER lets me forget. Fuck you. Lizz, I’m sorry, you are an apologist. He is a rapist. There is proof, you support him, you’re an apologist. So continue to brag about how many orgasms you gave me and cry about how you’re relationship with a child did not work out the way you wished it did, but when you tell your story, don’t forget to include the part where you fucked a child for 4 years. You’re sick. Eat shit, Die. Seacrest Out.

#rapist orangecounty orangecountyphotography foxisstrange manuelguzman statutoryrape harrassment

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jenonctcity · 4 years

Text

My Beginning - Part 2

Differences – Lee Jeno

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Streetfighter!Au

Warnings: Loss of virginity, Violence, Fighting, Mentions of past abuse, Mentions of mental health.

Word Count: 8k

The past two months of your life had been a complete turnaround from how you normally lived your life. Having a boyfriend was completely new to you, but a good kind of new. Jeno had taken on the boyfriend role perfectly and had given you the romantic vision you’d always had in your head when you pictured yourself having a boyfriend. He would kiss you when you weren’t expecting it, take you on dates, play with your hair when you were cuddling, and just be there for you when you needed someone to talk to. You knew about his past, and it slightly concerned you that it would affect your relationship with him, but so far he hadn’t let his past get between you and he hadn’t shown any of the anger that you’d seen on the night he told you about his father. Not only was he the sweetest boy ever, he was also very easy on the eye. His face was stunning, and his body almost had drool running from your mouth. Not that you’d seen him fully naked, you hadn’t had sex with him yet and he respected your boundaries and hadn’t pushed you into doing anything you didn’t want to do. The furthest you’d gone was making out in his car with his hand on your boob over your hoodie. But one thing you’d found out was that Jeno loved to take his shirt off. He always slept without a shirt on and if you were lounging around in the apartment then his shirt would be off. His chest was made by the gods and you loved when he’d wrap his strong arms around your frame and snuggle his head into your neck, his lips always placing soft kisses to your skin. When he’d first asked you to sleep over in his bed, you were worried he would try to have sex with you, but he’d promised you he just wanted to hold you in his arms when he slept and that he wouldn’t try anything.

“You should get a tattoo.” Jeno mumbled against your lips, pressing them to yours once again before letting them linger.

“Of what?” You whispered, moving your head so that you could lay your forehead against his bare shoulder.

“My face.” He laughed when you let out soft giggles, his arms winding around your middle and gripping at his shirt that you were wearing. It was comfy and you loved to wear his oversized t-shirts when you slept, usually pairing them with a pair of shorts or pyjama pants. “On your hand so that you can look at me all the time.” He pressed his lips to your cheek and rubbed your waist with his firm fingers.

“I much prefer your tattoos. Especially your angel wings because you really are an angel. My angel.” You smiled, hiding your head in his neck as you got shy. You missed how he winced and tensed up, the words of his ex-girlfriend running through his mind. She always called him her angel, and the wounds had started to heal, but sometimes certain things would rip them back open. That was one of them. His silence was normal, so you didn’t think anything of it, automatically taking one of his hands into your own and lifting your head up. He quickly forced a smile and looked into your eyes. “This one is my second favourite.” You looked down at the perfectly detailed tattoo of a lion across the back of his hand. “When did you get this one?” He left it a moment before he answered you.

“After my last breakup.” He shrugged and laced his fingers with your own, not wanting to talk about it.

“What made you get the wings?” You couldn’t help your curiosity. You knew a lot of tattoos had stories for people, and you wanted to know if he had stories behind his.

“To cover up the scars I have on my back from my dad hitting me with his belt.” He gulped and sighed, giving you a soft smile and shrugging.

“I’m sorry.” You felt bad for prying, immediately wrapping your arms around his body.

“Don’t be, you can ask me anything. You know that.” He leaned in to press his lips to your own, but you drew back and gave him a smile.

“I’m thirsty, I’ll be back in a minute.” You stood up from his lap, unwinding yourself from his grasp and leaving his bedroom. He watched you go and then laid back on the bed with a sigh of relief that you didn’t ask more about his ex-relationship.

You navigated yourself through to the kitchen, getting a glass and filling it with water. You took a sip and turned around to head back to Jeno’s room when you nearly bumped into someone. “Sorry! I didn’t see you there.” You laughed nervously, smiling shyly at the girl you knew to be Haechan’s girlfriend.

“It’s my fault, I kind of snuck up on you.” She smiled, getting herself a glass out of the cupboard. “So, how are you coping with Jeno at night? He moves around a lot doesn’t he. It’s actually quite cute when he twitches and mumbles in his sleep isn’t it?” She filled her glass up with water and took a mouthful. You found your eyebrows furrowing and stomach dropping slightly. You couldn’t wrap your head around how she would know about Jeno’s sleeping habits unless she’s slept with him.

“Erm…h-how would you know?” You felt slightly intrusive by asking her, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your head that was telling you to ask her.

“Oh you know, I’m his ex…” It dawned on her after she said that that perhaps you didn’t know. “He didn’t tell you that me and him were together, did he?” You felt embarrassment set in as you slowly shook your head, sipping at your water awkwardly and feeling like he’d kept a quite important thing from you. She gave you a small smile and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Er…this is awkward, I’m sorry, I thought he would have told you since I’m dating his best friend and I’m here all the time…”

“It’s not your fault.” You shrugged and sighed, giving her a small smile as you felt irritation take over your system. Not at her though, at Jeno for not having told you. You had a lot of questions, but you weren’t going to ask her. “Goodnight.” You mumbled and walked off, leaving her stood in the kitchen with a look of pity on her face.

“You were gone a while; did you get lost?” Jeno had tucked himself up in bed and couldn’t help but make the little joke that sat on the tip of his tongue ready for when you came back into his room. You placed your glass on his bedside table and got into his bed, not reacting to his lame joke and just pulling the duvet up to your shoulders. You kept your back to him, trying desperately to will away all of the negative feelings you felt towards him in that moment. “Babe?” He furrowed his eyebrows, never having seen you act like that towards him, as everything in your short relationship had been plain sailing up until you just ignored him. “Hey…” He perched himself up on one of his arms, facing you. He used his free hand to reach out and tug at the duvet, which you had a tight grip on, so it didn’t move at all. He frowned, not liking how you were giving him the silent treatment and cold shoulder. “Why are you being like this?” His voice lowered and he felt a feeling of annoyance roll over him.

“So I met your ex-girlfriend.” You grumbled without any emotion. Technically you hadn’t just met her, as you’d met her plenty of times before, but only knew he then as Haechan’s girlfriend. You couldn’t see but his mouth dropped open and he felt a pang of guilt in his gut. He hadn’t wanted you to find out anything about their relationship from her, but he couldn’t quite figure out in his head how to tell you that his ex-girlfriend had broken his heart and was now dating his best friend.

“Baby.” He sighed, using more force in tugging the duvet away from you, being successful this time and leaving your upper body exposed to him. You sighed and sat up, giving him a deadpanned expression that left him feeling like a naughty dog.

“Do you know how embarrassing it was for me? She thought I knew, now it just makes me look like I know nothing about you. What else haven’t you told me Jeno?” You looked down at your hands, fiddling with a loose bit of thread at the hem of Jeno’s t-shirt that you were wearing. “I looked so stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you baby.” He didn’t hesitate to pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around you, cocooning you in his embrace. He pressed a kiss to your temple and his touch made a warmth spark up inside of you. “It’s an embarrassing situation for me (Y/N).”

“What happened?” You looked into his eyes, noticing he had that familiar look of pain behind his pupils like he had when he was telling you about his family.

“Long story short, she was getting drugs from Haechan and fucking him secretly. I didn’t know this and got to know her, I then asked her out and she said yes, while she was still fucking him. I walked in on her in bed with him, and me and Haechan fought. I made her choose between the two of us, and she chose me. But I quickly came to realise that it wasn’t me that she loved, it was him.” He paused to take a breath, but you quickly interjected before he could continue.

“So why did she choose you?” You couldn’t figure out why a woman would pin two best friends against each other in that way, or why she would choose Jeno when she loved Haechan.

“She didn’t think he loved her. He was very cold towards her and I wasn’t. She simply picked the safe option in hopes of having someone love her. She tried her hardest to fall for me how I fell for her, but she couldn’t. I ended things with her because it hurt watching her pretend.” He looked down and sighed. You felt your heart hurt for him, but you could also tell that he was talking like he was still hurting. “She overdosed on drugs and he confessed his love for her.” That made your eyes widen in shock, you would never have thought looking at her that she nearly lost her life to addiction.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” You weren’t sure that you wanted to know the answer.

“No. Obviously I was in love with her so I will always feel a certain way about her, but I also have feelings of hostility towards her and Haechan for being together. More so her for how she played with me.” His arms tightened around you and he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

“Understandable…” You leaned your head against the top of his and snuggled into his grip.

“There isn’t anything else I haven’t told you; I just didn’t know how to tell you that I see my ex-girlfriend almost daily because she practically lives here. I had a feeling it would make you uncomfortable.” He admitted with a small voice.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” You pulled away from him and laid down once more, this time on your back. He looked down at you and a smile tugged on his lips.

“You’re beautiful, I don’t deserve you, you have such a kind soul.” His words had your cheeks burning up and a giddy feeling rising in your chest.

“Stop it, you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met, for the record, she was crazy for not falling for you.” The genuine, wide smile that filled his face made your heart thump.

“Thank you baby.” He leaned down, the upper half of his body hovering over you as he connected his lips to yours. Your hands automatically came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer until his body was pressed to yours. The kiss started off slow, your lips moving in perfect timing with passion flowing between you both. But then he forced his tongue into your mouth, exploring your mouth as a low grumbling sound left his throat. The kiss was hot and had you almost panting for more. He nipped at your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling at it before letting it go to trail kissed down your jaw and to your neck. “Let me make it up to you.” He whispered against your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. He sucked at your skin, leaving his mark behind as thoughts ran through your mind about what his words meant.

“Okay…” You let out a quiet moan, your chest rising and falling fast as his ministrations caused you to feel flushed.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” You felt a slight panic, wondering if he was going to try and take your virginity. You were ready, but you didn’t know how to tell him that without it sounding awkward. So instead you just laid your head back as he peppered kisses down your clothed body, eventually setting himself between your legs and smirking up at you. “You’re going to love this.” He chuckled lowly and pushed your legs up to your chest, taking the waistband of your shorts in between his fingers before pulling them down your legs and throwing them off to the side. You let out a soft gasp, your lower half completely bare to him for the first time. You could feel your legs start to shake from your nerves, and you hoped Jeno didn’t notice. He did though, and he settled down onto his stomach on his bed, pulling your legs to rest on his shoulders. You could feel his breath on your exposed pussy, and it was starting to make your head spin. He licked his lips, using his fingers to your your folds before staring at your face as he slowly leaned in and licked a stripe from your hole to your clit.

“Oh!” You lifted your head up to get a better look at what he was doing as he let his tongue slowly draw circles on your clit, a smirk sitting on his face as he watched you writhe under his touch. This was completely new to you. No one, apart from yourself, had ever touched you down there before, and it was making a fire ignite inside of you as you watched probably the most handsome man you’d ever met use his tongue on your most intimate parts. He used his free hand to reach up, grabbing at one of your hands and placing it onto of his blond hair. You could feel the familiar feeling of an orgasm building slowly inside of you. Of course you knew what an orgasm felt like, you weren’t completely innocent. But all your past orgasms had been self-inflicted and felt nothing like what was blooming inside of you because of Jeno. You wound your fingers around the coarse locks and gave it a soft tug when he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking at it as he shut his eyes. You felt yourself getting wetter the more he played with you, his tongue working wonders on you. He flicked his tongue over your delicate folds and dipped it into your dripping hole. “Jeno!” You moaned, subconsciously rolling your hips up into his face. He moaned against you, and when his middle finger breached your hole, pushing into you slowly as his tongue swirled around your clit, your orgasm crashed into you hard enough to have your back arching and toes curling. Jeno smiled, pulling his finger out of you and sucking it into his mouth.

“Told you that you’d love it.” When he sat up you noticed that his mouth and chin were wet with your juices, your stomach flipping at the arousing sight. He grabbed a tissue from his bedside table and wiped it away, screwing up the tissue and expertly throwing it into the bin across the room. You were still laying on his bed basking in your post orgasmic bliss when he pulled your shorts back on you and cuddled up to your side. “You did so well baby girl.” He whispered, reaching across you to sip at your glass of water before settling back down with you.

“That was the hottest thing I have ever seen…” You whispered, finally making eye contact with him. He let out a soft laugh and smiled widely at you.

“Well I can do a lot more than that princess.” He pecked your cheek with his lips and closed his eyes.

“I believe you…goodnight Jeno.” You whispered, closing your eyes and ignoring the pulsing you still felt in your heat.

“Goodnight love.” He whispered back, both of you pulled into the lull of sleep not long after.

---

It wasn’t unusual for someone else to answer the apartment door when you knocked on it. But usually you were met with a smile. So to have Renjun answer the door with a muted smile on his face caused you to furrow your eyebrows.

“Come in, he’s in his room. Just to warn you, he’s not in a good mood.” Renjun spoke quietly, probably so that Jeno didn’t hear him give you a warning.

“Oh, how come?” You took off your shoes by the door and looked up at Renjun with a tilted head.

“We just got back from a fight; did he not tell you?” Renjun mirrored your confused look and you let out a sigh, quickly shaking your head. “Oh, well anyway, it was concluded as a draw, and he’s pretty pissed off about it because he should have won all of the prize money. Just tread lightly.” Renjun patted your shoulder and headed into the kitchen, leaving you alone to deal with Jeno. It didn’t bother you that Jeno didn’t tell you about his fight. He knew that you worried too much and couldn’t relax if you knew he was fighting when you were just sitting at home doing nothing, and he didn’t like to have you at his fights so he never let you go to any of them. It had been a month since he’d told you about his ex-girlfriend, and since then the two of you had gotten a lot closer, but he still refused to let you see him fight. You took a breath and let yourself into his room, immediately seeing his bare back as he sat on the bed facing away from the door, his shoulders hunched over and his head hanging. You looked at the tattoo on his back and couldn’t help but think about how realistic it looked.

“Renjun just fuck off.” He grunted, running a hand through his hair and letting out a sigh.

“It’s me.” You spoke quietly, closing the door behind you and walks towards him. His shoulders visibly tensed up and he sat up straight. He didn’t say anything, instead only raising his head when he heard your footsteps approaching him. You let out a soft gasp at the sight of his face. He had a bruise forming underneath his right eye, and his cheek was cut, the dried blood crusting to stop the bleeding. He also had a cut above his eyebrow, the blood that had trailed down his cheek still there but now dry. “You look awful.” You couldn’t help but comment, smiling cautiously at him but receiving nothing but a blank stare back. You’d never seen him this void of emotion before, and you didn’t really know what to say or do. “Let me clean you up…please?” He nodded and stared at the wall as you grabbed the box of medical supplies from his bottom drawer. “This might hurt.” You got out an alcohol wipe and dabbed at the cut on his eyebrow, his eyes screwing shut in the sting he felt.

“Ah.” He drew his head back quickly, but then leaned forward again to let you continue. It was hard for you to put your finger on what emotion he was experiencing. He seemed agitated and grumpy, but you knew he was probably holding back a lot of anger too.

“Big baby. I missed you today.” You laughed softly at your confession but again were met with silence and no emotion. You felt the word vomit coming out in the silence and you decided to tell him about you day, just to fill the silence and perhaps start a conversation. “So uni was boring today, I learned quite a lot though, and I had a really big sandwich for lunch but I’m hungry again now.” You let out a soft laugh, continuing on with your story. “Anyway, there’s a new girl in my lecture and I got talking to her, she’s really nice. Ha also funny story, she didn’t have a pen, so I gave her mine to borrow but she actually never gave it back to me but it’s super awkward asking her for it back and-”

“Grow a fucking back bone!” He snapped, interrupting you in the middle of your story and smacking your hand away as you tried to clean up the dried blood on his face. “You have no fucking spine, it’s a fucking pen, just ask for the fucking thing back.” He grunted, looking down at his hands as they shook, his pent-up anger finally releasing. You stood completely still, in shock that he would speak to you in that sort of tone and physically touch you in that way. You felt the tears fill your eyes and you turned away from him, not wanting him to see you get upset and cry because of his outburst at you. His words hurt you, but it was his tone that was what got you the most. It was just a pen, you had no idea why he found it appropriate to attack you like that, over a pen. All you wanted to do was to distract him and start a conversation with him, but now all you wanted to do was go home. Your face screwed up and your shoulders shook as you let out soft sobs, trying to keep them quiet so that he couldn’t hear you. When he heard you cry his head snapped up, realisation hitting him like a brick to the face, knowing the reason for your tears was because of him.

“Shit.” He stood up fast and didn’t hesitate to spin you around and pull you into his chest. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean it.” He kissed your forehead and brushed your hair off of your face as his hands came to cup your face, pulling your head away so that he could look at your face. “I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.” He used his thumbs to wipe at your tears, his heart breaking as he saw your bloodshot, tear filled eyes trying to look at anything other than him. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you; I won’t do it again.” He shook his head, leaning in and kissing you softly. He pulled back and gave you a soft smile, his face now full of emotion, making it seem like the man you were talking to earlier wasn’t the same one who was trying his best to make amends with you.

“It’s okay.” You sniffled, leaning more into his touch. “I should just learn when to keep my mouth shut.”

“No! No please don’t feel like you can’t tell me about your day, I love hearing your voice, I don’t know what came over me.” He pulled you to his bed and scooped you up into his arms before he laid you down, laying over you and cuddling up to you despite squashing you slightly. You stayed silent, playing with his hair as he stared at your face. “You’re my everything.” He whispered, his eyes shutting as he leaned in and connected his lips to your own. His words and action had your heart doing backflips inside of your chest, his lips feeling warm against your own as he passionately kissed you. You knew that he probably had a lot of pent up emotions still inside of him. Which is the main reason why the next words came tumbling out of your lips.

“Fuck me.” He didn’t have to be asked twice. His lips smashing into your own once more as his hands trailed down the sides of your torso. With all of the thoughts running through your head, you didn’t even notice as he slowly peeled your clothes from you, leaving you only in your bra and panties. His lips pressed against your chest, his hands wrapping around you to unclip your bra and tug it from your body. You wanted to wrap your hands over your boobs to conceal yourself but Jeno was too quick and swooped down fast, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking on it gently. He peered up at you and couldn’t help but smile around your nipple when he saw your eyes shut and mouth hanging open, a soft moan falling from your lips as his thumb came up to play with your other nipple. He felt his cock stiffen in his sweatpants, his hips grinding into your thigh as he swirled his tongue around your sensitive nub. You could feel your panties starting to stick to you as his actions made you wet. Everything about what was happening was turning you on, but it was mostly the closeness and intimacy you were feeling with him. It made you thank yourself that you didn’t sleep with him as soon as you got together, and instead waited for the two of you to get closer.

He kissed down your body, pushing your legs apart and dragging your panties down your legs, laying kisses on your thigh, trailing them down to your knee and back up against until his mouth was hovering over your heat. Since the first time that Jeno had gone down on you, he had done it a lot more, also using his fingers on you so much that he knew exactly what made you cum. He smirked up at you before diving in, sucking your clit into his mouth and pushing two fingers inside of you. You gasped loudly, your hands darting down to grip at his hair and your hips lifting off of the bed in an attempt to have him closer, even though it wasn’t possible. He used his free hand to pin your hips to the bed, the small act of dominance making you even more aroused. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his tongue circling your clit and dragging a whine from your throat.

“Jeno I’m gonna cum!” You squealed, your back starting to arch until he pulled away. He smiled at you and leaned in, giving you a quick kiss on your lips as he pulled down his sweatpants and boxers. You felt your orgasm back off when he stopped, and it gave you a moment to regulate your breathing. You hadn’t seen Jeno’s cock before, but you had felt it pressed against you plenty of times, especially in the morning when he had morning wood and pressed it against your ass in his sleep. So you knew he was packing a decent size. It still had your eyes widening though when you saw his hand wrapped around it, pumping it until it was at full length. “Holy shit.” You whispered subconsciously, causing him to let out a laugh. “Will it fit?” You raised an eyebrow up at him as he pushed your legs up against your chest and settled between your legs, his lips caressing your own. He only hummed in response and you were too busy concentrating on his kisses that it took you by surprise when you felt the head of his cock pushing into you. You squeezed your eyes shut at the uncomfortable stretch that followed with a sting. One of your hands gripped at his bicep, while the other clawed at his back, trying desperately to ignore the pain. He didn’t stop, but he very slowly pushed himself inside of you.

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips when he was fully sheathed inside of you, not daring to move his hips until he’d given you a chance to adjust to his size. You could have cried from his confession; it was the first time he’d uttered those words to you despite having implied his love for you before. Those three words had you falling deeper for him, his lips pressing to your own for a long kiss.

“I love you too.” You whispered back once he’d broke the kiss. Very timidly he pushed his hips forwards, grinding his cock into you and letting out a breathy moan.

“Tell me if it gets too much.” He pushed himself up onto his hands to hover over you, both of them planted on the bed next to your neck as he looked down between you both, watching as he started to move his hips, his cock dragging in and out of you slowly. After a few minutes he picked up the pace, moans tumbling from your lips every time his cock hit a certain spot that had you almost seeing stars. He moved so that he was resting on his forearms, his lips connecting with your own as he started to put more force into his thrusts. “Fuck.” He grunted, his eyes screwing shut and pace picking up, his orgasm building like a fire inside of him. His tongue slid into your mouth, the kiss messy and hot as your toes started to curl and stars started to dance in your vision. You had heard that a lot of women actually couldn’t orgasm from penetration alone, and with how Jeno was fucking into you, you were glad you couldn’t be labelled under that category, his cock working absolute wonders inside of you.

“Jeno!” You called out, louder than intended as your orgasm washed through you suddenly, your walls convulsing around his cock as he drilled it into you harder than before, chasing his own orgasm now he knew that he’d pleased you. He sat back on his knees and stared down at you, placing one of his hands on your lower abdomen and letting out a moan louder than you’d ever heard from him. He could feel his cock through your abdomen on his hand, and it made him cum on the spot, both of his hands moving to your hips to grip them hard as he came inside of you. He didn’t voice it to you, but he had a bulging and breeding kink. He was kind of embarrassed by it, so when he fucked someone he would subtly play up to his kinks and hope that his partner didn’t notice. You hadn’t noticed, luckily for him, and instead you were staring up at him almost with hearts in your eyes. But despite his breeding kink, he didn’t want kids. He purely liked the aspect of cumming inside of someone, he felt as though it was intimate and made them feel more like his.

“Thank you.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared up at him. He chuckled gently and laid over you, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“You haven’t got to thank me; I’ve been wanting to do that to you for so long, but I wanted to wait until you were 100% ready. Thank you for trusting me and letting me take your virginity.” His lips attached to your neck and he sucked a bruise on your skin. “I’m so in love with you, I promise never to hurt you like that again.” His words had tears pooling in your eyes. You were so happy in that moment, genuinely believing that Jeno was the love of your life. He had been nothing but kind and sweet to you up until his outburst earlier. You knew of his anger issues and you just brushed it off as a one-off thing, hoping in your mind that he wouldn’t do it again.

---

It had been a month since you took the next step with Jeno and had let him take your virginity. Needless to say, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, and clothes ended up on the floor most nights. Jaemin had even knocked on the wall one night to tell you both to keep it down. You’d both giggled and carried on anyway. One thing you couldn’t quite get on board with was Jeno’s fighting. At first it hadn’t bothered you, but the closer you got to Jeno and the more you spent time with him, the more you saw his injuries and foul moods when he wasn’t the victor. He hadn’t taken his anger out on you since that night, but that didn’t stop him from stewing in his emotion and giving you the cold shoulder some nights. You didn’t take it to heart though, and simply gave him his space for an hour or so by talking to one of the lads or their girlfriends. Jisung had taken a keen liking to you, and one night when Jeno was sulking in his bedroom, you’d spent the night watching shrek with the young boy. He’d fallen asleep against your shoulder and you didn’t think much of it. But when Jeno came out to collect you for some angry sex, he’d physically removed Jisung from your shoulder and practically threw the unsuspecting boy across the room. He didn’t get his angry sex that night because you spent the rest of the night giving him the silent treatment for his jealous attitude towards Jisung.

You’d been let into the apartment by Jiyeon, well technically it was Renjun who’d let you in, but Jiyeon had been in his arms and was excited to see you.

“Hello Jiyeonie!” You smiled widely, snatching the young girl from Renjun hold and giving her a squeeze. She had grown a little bit from when you’d first met her a few months back. She was over a year old now and loved to talk about whatever she could think of. She’d also started to call you ‘Auntie (Y/N)’ once she found out her ‘Uncle JenJen’ was dating you.

“Auntie (Y/N)!” She smiled and wrapped her arms around you. “JenJen not here!” She pouted at you once you placed her on the floor. You looked at Renjun with furrowed eyebrows to which he rolled his eyes and laughed.

“He is here, she’s being silly. He’s in his room.” He smiled, herding Jiyeon away into the living room to play. You took off your shoes and rushed through to his room, freezing in the doorway when you caught sight of him.

“What the fuck?” You couldn’t help the words as they tumbled from your mouth. It wasn’t usual for you to swear much, and your shocked expression had Jeno almost folding over in laughter. Instead of seeing the blond-haired boy sat on his bed playing on his phone, you’d instead walked in on a black hair boy sat on his bed with his phone in his hand. You burst into tears at the sight of Jeno with black hair, his face falling quickly as he jumped up to bundle you in his arms.

“Baby! What’s wrong? Do you not like it?! I can dye it back again if you hate it, I’m sorry I-”

“You look so handsoooooome.” You whined into his chest as you cried, overwhelmed at seeing him with his natural hair colour for the first time. You couldn’t believe he could get even more handsome, but somehow, he’d managed to do it and it took you by surprise. “I love it, I love you oh my god.” You couldn’t help but cling to him, wanting to be in his arms more than ever.

“You worried me.” He chuckled, running his hand through your hair and placing a soft kiss to your head. “I have a fight in an hour, do you want to stay here and wait until I come home? I’m pretty sure all the girlfriends are staying here to take care of Jiyeon whilst me and the boys go.” Your stomach dropped when you heard his words. You didn’t realise he had a fight tonight, and the last thing you wanted was for him to leave you.

“Do you have to fight? I want to stay with you…I have some news.” You looked up at him with big eyes, naturally pouting up at him to try and get him to stay with you.

“I can’t baby, I’d love to but,” He quickly placed a kiss on your pout and pulled away. “I have to go to the fight.” He shrugged. “Tell me your news later yeah?” He just assumed that you’d had something of small significance happen to you at uni, because you often acted like the smallest thing was super exciting and made a big deal out of it.

“But-”

“No, come on let’s have a quickie to get me pumped up for my fight.” He smirked, leaning in to kiss you but the words that tumbled from your mouth had him stopping dead.

“I’m pregnant.” You felt your heart thumping in your chest as you tried to gauge Jeno’s reaction. You didn’t know how he felt about having kids of his own, and you’d seen him interact with Jiyeon enough to know that he didn’t hate kids. He was a really good uncle to her, and he even offered to babysit her or take her out for ice cream. But the hard expression that took over Jeno’s face had you doubting everything.

“You’re pregnant?” His voice was low, and he clenched his fists. He bit his bottom lip as thoughts ran this his head. It also made sense now as to why you cried so quickly over a situation as small as him dying his hair. “How?”

“We’ve never used protection Jeno…it’s what happens when-”

“I fucking know how it happened. I thought you were on the pill! Why did you never tell me you weren’t?!” His voice got louder, and he backed away from you.

“Because I didn’t care if I got pregnant…I want things like that with you. It doesn’t matter to me that we haven’t been together long Jeno, I love you and I always thought if it happens then it happens. I don’t think you realise how in love with you I am. I assumed you thought the same way considering you always came inside of me!” You felt yourself cowering and you suddenly felt really small under his gaze.

“I don’t want kids!” He suddenly shouted at you, shaking his head and turning around, his fist connecting with the wall with a loud bang. You flinched and backed off again, not knowing how far his anger could go.

“Then you shouldn’t have ever assumed I was on contraception Jeno! I was a virgin, why would I need contraception?! If you didn’t want kids, then you should have made sure you wore protection. You should have told me!” He screwed his eyes shut, he knew you were right, and he cursed himself for playing up to his breeding kink. He should have known it would come around and bite him in the ass. The room went silent. He had his back to you, and you could see his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to clam himself down. You felt fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as you spoke. “Are you going to leave me…?” You didn’t want to go through it alone, but you also didn’t think you could abort the baby because you had already come to love it, despite only knowing about it for a few hours. You should have known that the little fantasy you had in your head about you and Jeno having a baby and living happily ever after was unlikely to pan out. But you couldn’t help but wish it was a reality.

“No. Just…I don’t know…fuck.” He stormed out of the room when he didn’t know what to say to you and slammed the door shut behind him. You sat down on his bed and cried into his pillow, hoping that he wouldn’t leave you. Not because you were scared to go through it alone, but because you didn’t want the best thing that had ever happened to you to leave you.

You didn’t know when, but you fell asleep. You woke up to your phone buzzing, you saw it was Haechan calling and you quickly answered it with a coarse voice. “Hello?”

“(Y/N), I’m out the front of the apartment building, you need to come with me…”

---

“What’s going on? You’re in a super bad mood and you know you shouldn’t fight like this.” Jaemin had pulled Jeno to the side as he was wrapping his hand up. Jeno just sighed and concentrated on his hand. “Jeno.” Jaemin grunted, trying to coax his best friend into telling him what was on his mind. “You literally stormed out of your bedroom and dragged us here early. Did you fight with (Y/N)? We heard shouting but-”

“She’s pregnant.” Jeno mumbled just so that Jaemin would shut up. Jaemin’s eyes went wide and he looked lost for words for a moment. He gathered his thoughts and sighed.

“It’s going to be okay. Please…step down tonight, you need to be with her and I’m sure she needs you.” Jeno could feel tears gather in his eyes as he stared at his hands. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.”

“Jeno I am your best friend!” Jaemin snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him. “I was there when you got sent down for beating your deadbeat dad up. I was the one who visited you. I was the one whose shoulder you cried on when that bitch broke your heart. You know you can trust me, and I can see this is fucking killing you. You love her and you don’t want to lose her. Just do the right thing okay?” Jeno could only nod, sniffing back his tears and looking up to the ceiling of the abandoned building they were in. “If you’re going to fight, then win. And win fast so that you can go home and cry on (Y/N).” Jaemin patted him on the back and walked off.

The fight started not long after, the crowd around them shouting words of encouragement to whoever they were supporting and the low lights of the building making it hard to see. Jeno tried his hardest to beat the other man, but all he could see was you in the back of his mind, in his bedroom with tears streaming down your face because of how he acted when you’d told him about the baby. His baby. The fist connecting to his temple took him by surprise, he didn’t even see it coming as he wasn’t paying the attention that he should be. He groaned, his arms coming up to cover his head, but his opponent saw the moment of weakness, and delivered another blow to the other side of his head. Jeno hit the floor hard, out cold from just two strikes.

“Shit!” Renjun ran over to him once the man had backed off. “Help me with him.” Haechan and Jaemin helped Renjun lift Jeno, and together they shoved him into Jaemin’s car.

“If he doesn’t wake up in a minute or so we have to take him to the hospital. That guy hit him really hard.” Haechan sighed, running his hands over his face.

“He shouldn’t have fought, I told him not to!” Jaemin put his head in his hands, knowing he could have done more to stop him and feeling like it was hit fault. Jeno had blood streaming from the back of his head, which wasn’t unusual considering his line of work, but his head had hit the floor hard and the other boys had yet to notice it. Jaemin seen the blood pooling on his car seat and lifted his head, that’s when he noticed it. “Wait…shit we need to go now! His head is bleeding bad, he must have hit it on the floor.” They didn’t waste anymore time and Renjun got into Jaemin’s car whilst Haechan got in his own. They made their way to the hospital whilst Haechan went back to the apartments. He knew that you would want to be there for Jeno, and you’d be heartbroken if you found out that he was in hospital and they’d kept it from you.

He took a deep breath when he pulled up outside of the apartment building, dialling your number and waiting for you to answer with bated breath.

---

You honestly didn’t think that your night could get any worse. But the phone call from Haechan had proved you wrong. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling as you sat in the hospital room beside Jeno, who was still unconscious, but the doctors had said he was stable and there wasn’t much physical damage that they could see. They’d purposely sedated him so that they could treat him, and he wouldn’t wake up and freak out. Jaemin was sat beside you, whilst Renjun and Haechan had gone to get snacks for everyone whilst they waited. After a while your tears had dried up, and you held his hand loosely, your eyes trained on his face, just waiting for him to open his eyes.

His eyes slowly blinked open, causing you to sit up straighter. He let out a soft groan, and squeezed his eyes shut again.

“Jeno, I’m here.” You said gently, stroking your thumb against his hand. He smiled sleepily and opened his eyes again. He didn’t look at you, and instead looked up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was grumbly from his sleep, his throat now dry and coarse.

“It’s okay, we’ll take about it later…just focus on recovering okay?” He smiled slightly and nodded, his eyes flickering around the room and landing on you a couple of times. You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling slightly dejected that he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds before his eyes darted off to look at something else. Perhaps he wasn’t really sorry? You tried not to focus on that and instead kissed his cheek. He flinched slightly at the contact and then relaxed, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“Baby can you get me some water?” He asked with a very soft voice. You nodded and faked a smile, quickly standing up.

“Of course, I’ll be back in a moment.” You left the room, leaving Jaemin with him.

“You really worried us Jen.” Jaemin left out a small chuckle but then his face fell when he saw Jeno’s face screw up, tears falling down the side of his cheeks as he started to sob. “Hey, what’s wrong? Is it because of the baby?” He gulped, standing up and placing a hand on Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno shook his head quickly and opened his eyes again. Jaemin noticed that he didn’t look at him, and instead he stared up at the ceiling.

“No.” He gulped and let out a long breath. “I can’t see.”

---

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|19

chapter 19: the script II

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: Valerie and Robbie. Tom and y/n.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst, a lot of swearing, the script, tom gets drunk again, poorly written script :) IF FOR SOME REASON THE PICTURES DON’T WORK PLEASE TELL ME!)

word count: 8.2k

playlist(1: with song names) (there are many songs from here featured on this playlist, btw the 70′s songs I meant is ‘Yes, Sir, I can Boogie’.

playlist 2 (Spotify link)

Playlist: perf1Dy (one direction+solo songs)

social media before you read :

tweets, texts and instagram: with harry and y/n hanging out.

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

So, this chapter is super different! You’ll be able to read part of the script! So I added some pictures to give in with the aesthetic (that’s the script) you know? So, tell me what you think! Reblogs are more than welcome!

She’d choose him. She would choose him. Even if right now Tom was the love of her life, or whatever she meant by that. She would choose Robbie—Harry. Harry. Because even if she believed that Tom—or Timmy? Was the one. She’d rather it be Harry.

Tom guessed that what had bothered him the most was what he had most feared for, what he had been sure for his entire life. Harry and y/n were supposed to be together. And y/n believed that, too.

And she had once been in love with him. Because the script was a love story, indeed, about Valerie, an aspiring dancer, imagine Flashdance, Dirty Dancing, Footloose, and Fame combined, somehow. 80’s classics, y/n’s favorites. Valerie, still listening to 60’s music, paired up with her childhood enemy, William, already a dancer, and along the way, she met Teddy, the poet. And Robbie, her whole life best friend and number one fan, a guitarist, playing in his local band. Of course, Valerie, tired of Will giving her obstacles, in life, in her dancing career, decides she’ll break his heart. After one steamy night, everything is changed. So yes, of course it was a love story. But not between Will and Valerie.

It was the story of her love for dancing, and how she’d do everything to get her, even taking Will down, and a story of a love that should’ve been, and how it kept pulling them backwards. Either their friends, the situation, misunderstandings, their feelings or lack of. But timing. Usually timing.

That scene wasn’t even the worst thing he’d read. Problem was, he knew he was probably not the only one who knew it. Tim knew it, and maybe that’s why Tim had been smart enough to set Harry up with Emma. But Timmy wasn’t that wicked right—?

But y/n had once loved Harry, before Rome. And it made sense, Tom remembered it. He perfectly remembered it. How y/n and Harry had been hanging out more because she’d be leaving. How even Sam had told Tom.

“Think they might finally date?” Sam had asked Tom.

Tom had felt just a little heartbroken, but he had to admit they had been even—closer, and not closer as they were before. Sure, they’d always be together and they’d hug and even cuddle, but they’d seen it. They’d changed, a bit. How they’d go out alone, and they’d be giggling more. How y/n would look at Harry and smile, Sam had sworn he’d even seen her blush once.

She’d written about it, how they’d almost kissed. And how Valerie had told nobody. Neither had Robbie.

And somehow that made Tom feel broken-hearted and guilty and stupid and then—because it all made sense. He’d taken that from his brother. How did he not know?

Because it made sense. Y/N had had feelings for someone who treated her like she was the only girl in the world. It made sense.

But of course, then came Rome. Or… London, yes. That’s what she changed it for. As if London alone didn’t have any part of their story. But before London, and after London. How y/n had completely shut out her feelings for Harry. She only mentioned it. How Valerie and William had once found each other again, in London. And how she’d forgotten every feeling towards Robbie, the instant she’d seen William.

But even after everything, Y/N believed Harry was crafted for her. Or not crafted… but, she did say it, how she didn’t understand why she couldn’t love the one. And Harry was it. Not even Timmy, or not even Tom. How y/n had caged up and boxed her feelings for Harry because she’d hate to ruin a perfect friendship, but did she even love him back? Had she hidden her feelings all this time?

If he thought about it, it made sense. But it didn’t. But it was a script, right?

And Tom wouldn’t have believed it, everyone based their own works on their own life, or outs a little bit of them. But, this was y/n’s story. And this was a story of how, tired of not being loved back or tired of not loving the right person, she breaks someone’s heart.

But maybe it was fiction..

But then he had looked around her room, and he’d seen two boxes, Tim and Tom. Tom was biggers and older, and after being hit with that bomb he might have wanted to open his box, search for more answers, but he had already sneaked in and found something he didn’t want to know, he had decided not to open the box. But then he searched for a third box, Harry’s. He knew that if there was a box it had to mean something. And there wasn’t a box. But there was—her whole room. Things which she didn’t have to hide.

Polaroids, movie tickets, concert tickets, everything that screamed Harry. Their projects, their memories. Presents, parties. Her entire room was her and Harry, and she didn’t have to box it. She didn’t have to—hide it, because she didn’t look at Harry and was sad or pissed. Harry was her happy place.

And then Tom’s box was ripped and old, and even dusty. Tim’s seemed recent. Which only confirmed it, she had to box it because she didn’t want to see it. And she didn’t have to box Harry. Harry didn’t hurt.

And Tom couldn’t stop thinking about that. And it felt weird. Had it always been Harry? And did he have to tell him?

Because maybe y/n always thought about it, and she kept hanging out with him. But did it hurt her? That she never had the chance? That’s when it all started, didn’t it? Because it started with that, with Robbie being in love with someone else for the first time. Her, feeling like she’d lost her chance.

Right after she’d broken up with Tim, first she was heartbroken, sure she’d seen her. But Tom had… seen her with Harry, more and more. Which was different when Rome happened, when she shut everyone out.

But then Harry was serious with Emma. And y/n had said it: They shouldn’t get married.

Maybe that’s when she finally let him go, and that’s when Tom had stepped in. When Harry had declared he would get down on one knee. It made sense, y/n knowing she’d lost her chance for chasing someone who wasn’t meant to be, because she was too scared. Tom couldn’t get it.

But she didn’t have a box. And she’d run out of time, because she’d shut him out. These two months, she’d ignored Harry. Was she getting over him? And Tom maybe understood why she had said no to Timmy, not because of Tom, it was because of Harry. Because she didn’t look for Tom when she broke up with Timmy, no she looked for Harry, and she had avoided Tom, until that bet came. Until she said she’d make Tom fall in love with her, and she didn’t love him anymore.

But she… had said it? That she was in love with him. But was she? Tom had broken her so many times that he didn’t blame her, he didn’t blame her if she wasn’t in love with him.

Tom’s thoughts made no sense. And it had been rough. But he missed her, he really missed her. And he really wanted to get over this. He wished he hadn’t read it.

And he could believe it now, that she probably wasn’t going to hurt him, not in the way he’d expected. But in the worst way, the perfect perfidy. A perfect perfidy.

Make him and herself believe that it was Tom. Not Harry.

Because it probably had never been Tom.

Tom hadn’t slept, he hadn’t eaten and he hadn’t talked to his brother. He had seen her hanging out with Harry. And the smile she gave to Harry’s camera could only confirm it to Tom.

He’d even seen Emma’s stories, y/n had been with her once. ‘Maid of honor and bridesmaids and Timmy’. But she didn’t look happy. Only with Harry. But Timmy knew.

Timmy knew.

What if. Maybe that’s all Harry was. Her thoughts wondering what would’ve happened if she’d fallen in love with Harry instead, not Tom. But it was Harry.

It had always been Harry. Or she had wanted it to be Harry.

Tom didn’t get it. Tom didn’t get his own thoughts and maybe he hadn’t read what he was supposed to read. Although he had. He tried to convince himself that she loved him. Especially with what she’d said. “I always end up choosing you.” Because she did, she hated herself as much as Tom had hated her because she chose him, not Harry.

But that didn’t mean that she chose him because she wanted to. It was… complicated. But he wanted her to lie to him, somehow Tom wanted to keep believing her, that she’d always loved him.

And maybe that’s why he had somehow cheered up when she’d showed up again. She looked tired, dark circles around her eyes, and she looked weak. Tom was doing what he’d done the past few days, play video games.

She had stayed at the door frame, quietly. Tom glanced at her once and then continued playing. Sure, he’d missed her but he was still hurt.

Y/N quietly walked in and sat on the other side of the big couch as Tom kept his glanze glued to the TV.

He felt her staring and paused the game. “May I help you?” He asked harshly.

“Can we talk?” She asked.

“No, I’m playing,” he said and resumed his game.

Y/N crossed her arms, and rested her head on the couch. “Okay, I’ll wait.”

Tom frowned. “Prepare to be there all day, then.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got years of training, I’ll annoy you until you stop playing.”

He blinked and glanced at her. “What?”

“We were enemies first, remember? I know how to poke your guts, so I’ll just annoy you until you pay attention to me,” she stated. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “Why?”

“We’re in a relationship, Tom, I’m not giving up on you only because you deal with your emotions like a two year old,” she pointed out.

He rolled his eyes but kept playing. She initially didn’t do anything, she was just scrolling on her phone. Tom did glance at her every now and then. Subconsciously both of them were scooting closer each time, until y/n was eventually resting her head against Tom’s shoulder. It felt weird, as if both of them only for a bit wanted to pause their thoughts, pause their sorrow and just be there for the other.

He missed her too much, no matter how angry and broken-hearted he had been, he couldn’t help but rest his own head against hers. But he knew they couldn’t get out of this one, not him. And he really didn’t want to ask about it because he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

Because he knew that she’d been hurt and he was a monster. Tom was a monster. She’d done that to her. And he knew that she hadn’t even written how it had really been. Not her real heartbreak. Tom wondered if she’d really gone to the doctor, and if the doctor’s diagnosis had really been a heartbreak.

But Tom wondered a lot of things. If she loved him, if she didn’t. If what was written on paper was the truth. Because she believed he was a monster. Because Valerie was doing everything so she could dance, but was y/n doing everything so she could write?

She hadn’t really annoyed him, not really. Not like when they were kids and she’d scream to him, pinch him, yell, or whatever she could to either bother him, or make him give her the controller. No, she was quiet, and she was only texting, synchronizing her breathing to his. She was only texting Harry, and she wasn’t even telling him about Tom, it was just them being silly.

And Tom had to remember again, he was angry. Tom paused the game.

Y/N quickly looked up. “Finally, can we talk now?”

Tom only stood up, her head fell down to the couch, she frowned watching him storm off the room..

“Tom,” she called out as she followed him to the kitchen.

Tom ignored her as he opened the fridge. He wasn’t hungry, he hadn’t been for the past few days, but he kept staring inside. Y/N only hugged him from behind, he tried to shoulder her off, but she didn’t let him go.

“Tom, can we talk?” She mumbled into his back as she placed a kiss below his neck..

“No.” He closed the fridge door.

“Tom,” she whined as she let him go. “You’ve been ignoring me for the last few days, you yelled at me the day I came andI have no fucking clue why you’re angry or upset or whatever, I need to know.”

“Have you been eating these days?” Tom asked.

She blinked. “Tom can you please tell me something? What did I do wrong?” She pushed.

He paced around the kitchen. “Hm, are you hungry?”

“Tom, did I do something wrong?” She insisted. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. I miss you, okay? I love you and I… I’m maybe clingy or needy but fuck, I miss you and I fucking hate going to bed alone, and it’s only been a few days but I… Please, don’t take this away from me. Why are you ignoring me? Why are you upset?”

“I…” He finally turned to her. “I think I’m gonna order a pizza.” He said to himself as he took out his phone.

“Thomas, what the fuck,” she snapped.

“Cheese pizza, right?” He asked as he turned back to the call.

She rolled her eyes, as she leaned against the wall watching him as he finished the call.

“Tom, can you stop ignoring me?” She insisted as she walked back to him, she cupped his face. “Please?”

He looked down at her lips.

“Tom?”

He pushed her to the wall, he brushed his lips against hers, as her breathing got heavy, she tried to connect their lips together but Tom pulled away, left her and then made his way to his leaving room. Frustrated, y/n followed after him.

He didn’t want to hurt her, not really. But he knew that by ignoring her, she was frustrated. He’d learned that over the years, y/n hated being ignored. Besides he really didn’t want to talk to her, so this was a win-win situation.

“Tom,” she sat beside him, and Tom walked away to the single couch. “Tom, what the fuck, can you at least tell me why you’re mad?”

He looked up at her, as he finally could turn on his speakers, he played a very particular song. “Valerie.” Amy Winehouse. He turned the volume up as he sang along, loudly.

Y/N only sat there, confused, watching him.

“Tom this is very immature,” she pointed out.

He only kept singing, looking at her every time he sang Valerie. She picked up a cushion and threw it at his face, he laughed cynically but rolled his eyes, throwing it back at her.

“I’m not playing, Tom.”

“Good, I’m not either,” he smirked. “Valerie,” he dragged an awful note.

“This would be so fucking easier if you weren’t a stupid kid, still,” she had said.

She stayed quiet for a while as Tom kept playing louder music.

Harrison had come down, “man can you please--turn the volume down?” He complained and then saw y/n. “Oh, hi, y/n. Didn’t know you were here.”

“Hi,” she said, bored and tired of trying to get Tom to talk.

Tom frowned. “Wait didn’t you open the door for her?”

“I borrowed a key from Harry,” she admitted.

Tom clenched his jaw and stormed off the room.

Haz rolled his eyes, watching as y/n turned off the speakers. She paced around the living room.

“Still ignoring you?” Haz asked.

“Yep,” she clenched her jaw. “Haz,” she sighed. “I really…I want to give up,” she shrugged.

Haz bit his lip. “It’s complicated.”

“You do know why he’s acting that way, right?” Y/N wondered.

Haz sighed. “I… It’s none of my business, really. Just talk to him.”

“Is it because of Tim?” She asked him. “Because...He was in my room, and I dunno, maybe he saw I still have… Some of Timmy’s belongings but I’ve been-”

“Y/N, I really don’t know.”

“I don’t know, I’m not the only one he’s ignoring, apparently he’s ignoring Harry, too,” she commented. “It’d be easier if he fucking talked to me, so tell him that I won’t try anymore.”

Haz watched her with pity. She left.

Tom didn’t even reach out to her again, and she had ceased her texting, her calling. Harry had reached out to him, though. Once, asking him not to make a scene with y/n at his engagement, asking him to hold their fight until the party was over.

Emma and Harry’s long awaited engagement party had come and even though Tom Wasn't sure if he was invited after days—almost weeks of ignoring his brother, he had showed up, clean and handsome. He really didn’t want to be there. A dinner, that’s what Emma’s parents had come up with. Elegant. Simple. At their garden, beautifully decorated now, with lightbulbs hanging around.

Emma’s hands didn’t leave Harry’s, and he was sure he’d never seen his brother as bright. Maybe he had. Even happier, with his eyes shining more. But Tom didn’t have to do anything. Instead he was pacing around with a beer in his hand, avoiding any kind of conversation.

He’d seen Tim, pacing around, too. He’d stayed close to Emma. Tim had been observant, and he probably had noticed Tom had walked in, not alone, but with someone by his side. That someone wasn’t y/n.

Tom cursed his decision making process and hated himself for inviting Madison. Although, Madison probably didn’t think much of it, as long as Madison knew, Tom was still dating y/n.

Everyone still thought that. And technically, he… still was. He hadn’t given her any explanation. He had given no one an explanation.

“Where’s y/n?” Nikki asked as soon as she saw Tom fidgeting near the bar. Or the excuse of a bar with only a table where a guy was serving drinks.

Tom ordered a glass of whiskey to the bartender, and shrugged. “Uh—Not here yet.”

“Why didn’t you pick her up?” Nikki asked.

Tom sipped of his drink. “Mum, she has a car.”

Nikki frowned. “And?”

“She had some things to do,” Tom added. “Uh—“

“Are you guys okay?”

Tom didn’t have the guts to tell anything to her mother. How could she tell her? What would she tell her?

“Mum, perfectly,” he lied.

“And Madison?” Nikki pushed.

“She’s just a friend,” Tom Insisted. “Really, nothing to worry about.”

Nikki watched him, she wasn’t buying it. “And What about y/n?”

“My girlfriend? I love her, with all my heart, don’t worry, she just had to pick some stuff up and insisted that I should be here with my brother.”

Nikki gave him a suspicious glance before walking away.

Harrison approached him. “Why did you even invite—what’s her name?”

“Madison,” Tom said.

“To make y/n jealous?” Haz asked. “Like that will solve any of your problems.”

Tom hadn’t thought about that. He really didn’t know why he had invited Madison. He knew y/n didn’t like her, Madison had once technically called y/n a whore for “sleeping with her boss”, and she didn’t like her since. Maybe it was in his nature, y/n had been his enemy for a long time. And it felt like he was paying her off for the script.

But of course now that he saw Madison there, speaking to Sam, and then also to Timothee, he knew he had fucked it up.

“I dunno,” Tom admitted. “Didn’t want to arrive alone, less with Tim here.”

“You could’ve called your actual girlfriend,” Haz pushed. “Although you’re not in speaking terms because you’re fucking avoiding her, that would solve it, and do you think Timmy cares if you walk in with Maddie? If anything you’re basically giving him y/n away.”

“He’s not the one for her anyway,” Tom snaked as he gulped down his whiskey in one single shot.

“That’s utter bullshit,” Haz explained. “I thought you would talk with her.”

“Well, we didn’t, and tonight is most certainly not the day we make up,” Tom gave him a cynical smirk before walking back to the bar, he ordered some gin and tonic, with a lime.

“I’m so fed up with you, ah, great she’s here,” Haz said.

And as he turned around back to see the party, Tom had seen her walk in, a very light sweet yellow flowered dress, elegant, the drapes falling to her knees, a golden necklace around her neck, and her usual red lips. She had wandered in alone first, confused and sad. She looked around the place and her eyes initially landed on Harry and Emma, over by Emma’s parents, a sad smile formed across her lips. But then her sight continued and finally landed on Tom, he looked away and gulped. Y/N kept staring at him before giving up. Eventually, James walked behind her.

They continued her way across the garden, quietly and carefully. She didn’t say hello to anybody, James had stopped to say hello to some friends and family, and she just made her way to the bar, walking right past Tom, brushing his shoulder.

Tom clenched his jaw, as he turned to see her. Haz chuckled, seeing how the tables had turned.

“Y/N, hello,” Haz greeted her, approaching her.

“Hi,” she gave him a quick smile, but then turned to the bartender. “Gin and tonic, please, and if you could add a lime in there, that would be lovely.”

Haz chuckled, “huh, could’ve sworn someone just ordered the same.”

Y/N directed her gaze at Tom, “Ah, great,” she watched him. “Meant to be,” she sassed as she waited for her drink.

“Hi, y/n,” Tom mumbled.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now, good to know,” she rolled her eyes as the bartender handed her her glass. She walked away. Tom followed after her,he took her hand and stopped her.

She sighed as she turned to him. “May I help you?”

“You look beautiful,” Tom said.

She gave him a sad smile. “Thanks, you look… beautiful too.”

“Yellow flowers?” He asked looking at the dress, as he stepped in closer.

She shrugged and cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze. “Found the dress, it was pretty,” she said. “I—I guess we have to act normal, right? We don’t want our family to know we’re about to break up huh, not after we just made them so happy.”

Tom pursed his lips, ignoring her comment. “I tried to call you earlier,” Tom said. “To pick you up.”

“Yeah, I know, I didn’t want to come,” she admitted. “I’m not exactly fond of this engagement.”

Tom felt it again. He started questioning it, if it was because she didn’t think Emma and Harry were meant to be or if it was because she’d run out of time for her.

“Really?”

“Or maybe I just didn’t want to pretend I was fine in front of your family and mine,” she said.

“You do look sad,” Tom pointed out.

She cackled dryly. “And one might only wonder why.”

Tom took a deep breath, and then gulped. “I—“

“Tom—Oh, hi, y/n!” Madison had come just in time to interrupt. “Y/N, love why are you here?”

Y/N blinked with surprise. “Why—excuse me?” She looked between them. “Why am I—why am I here?”

“Yeah, thought you and Tom had a fight,” Madison said.

“I—really, that’s—that’s what he told you,” she blinked watching between them.

“No—No, I didn’t,” Tom intervened quickly. “No.”

“Well, I happen—I—“ y/n didn’t even know what to say.

“Honestly whenever I had a fight with my boyfriend I wouldn’t show up to the places where he’d be,” Madison insisted, she stank of alcohol, she’d probably had too many glasses.

“Well, I—I am still the maid of honor,” y/n smiled. “Now—if you’ll excuse me—I’ll—“she quickly walked past Tom and flicked his hand away as he tried to stop her.

Tom followed after her, calling for her but she’d arrived with Harry.

“Harry,” Tom gulped. He hadn’t even said hello to him.

“Tom,” Harry looked between them. “Children behave, both of you.”

“Oh, I will behave,” y/n sassed, watching Tom.

Tom scoffed. “Oh, you will now?” He snapped back.

“I’m not the one causing a scene, Thomas,” she hissed.

“And wouldn’t you love that?” He snapped. “That’s all you want.”

Harry rolled his eyes and walked away.

“I’m not the one who fucking brought someone else,” she snapped.

He shrugged. “She’s a friend.”

“Ah, yes sure, and you didn’t bring her to make a statement,” she growled.

“Says yellow flowers,” he snapped.

“I don’t even know why you’re angry at me,” she crossed her arms. “You literally have no right to call me out for a dress--”

“Oh, and it was a coincidence-”

“Dom, hello!” She changed her frown for a smile as she turned to Tom’s father.

“Y/N, you look lovely,” Dom grinned. “Hadn’t seen you around, thought you’d arrive with Tom here.”

“Oh no, no, I just got here, had to do… some stuff,” she grinned. Tom gulped as he awkwardly walked to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Dom smiled. “Ah, great,” he nodded. “So how’s everything going? Have you finished your script?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Yeah, good, yeah, I um.. I yeah, I finished it, it’s… It’s, yeah.”

“What’s it about?” Dom asked with a smile.

She coughed. “It’s uh, about an aspiring dancer in the 80’s,” she said.

“Really?” Tom frowned. “That’s all it is about?”

Dom frowned watching between them.

“Yeah,” she nodded, as she turned to glare at Tom, mostly confused. “It’s about a dancer, and well, you know, a love story but--.”

Dom nodded. “Ah, I’d love to read it, it’s always a pleasure reading you.”

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, I’d love that too.”

Dom probably felt the tension between the two and decided to walk away.

“I thought we were going to behave,” y/n snaked and Tom shrugged.

“No, I just… really want to know about your script,” he watched her. “You’ve never told me about it.”

She rolled her eyes. “And you won’t get to know,” she said as she started to walk away. “Oh, we’re behaving, right?” She only came back to kiss his cheek before making her way to an empty table.

Timmy walked to the table, and he said hello, y/n initially hesitated but then as she saw Tom watching them, she invited him to sit with her.

It bothered Tom. So he only stayed close to the bar, ordering Tequila, rum, whiskey, whatever the bartender could offer him. Madison had stayed close to him, and he really needed the alcohol to get through this.

He’d seend y/n talk to Emma and Harry, and y/n and Harry had taken some pictures together. He’d seen y/n again, alone with Emma as they stared at the ring, y/n looked sad. She’d talked to Sam, to her brother, to some other friends. Everyone but Tom, she’d been avoiding her. And Tom was angry, everything he’d bottled up for the past days was slowly trying to come out. Mixing that with the alcohol wasn’t a good idea.

And his thoughts had gone back to the dark place. Y/N had only searched for Tom when she was lonely, everytime she broke up with someone, something happened. Or when she was lonely in Rome. Because it wasn’t Tom.

It was Harry, and it was obvious. It’d always been Harry. He’d seen her throw her head back laughing, and the way she’d magically turned happy when Harry was around. Not like when Tom, where she was cautious, no she didn’t have to.

And Tom now not only wanted what she’d had with Timmy, no, he wanted what she had with Harry. But he could never have that. He could fake what she’d had with Tim, but how could he ever have what Harry has with her?

Tom was drinking, more and more, and the dinner came eventually, everyone sitting down, soft music playing in the background. And y/n had sat near with Tom, as he was drinking even more. Everything was blurry now, and the music was only accentuating the drink.

His father gave a speech, Emma’s father gave another one, and Tom found it as an invitation to talk, too.

He didn’t hesitate twice. The song playing in the background was so chaotic, as if it was cueing him to talk. 70’s song, he could tell. He didn’t know the song but it was perfect.

“Hi, everyone, can I—get everyone’s attention I’m so—So happy to be here,” Tom yelled, before burping. Everyone turned to look at him as he stared at Harry and Emma. Harry shot a glare at his brother. “Emma, you look lovely, Harry man, so—proud of you.”

Y/N stood up and tried to pull him down. “Tom, sit down you’re drunk, don’t make a scene,” she whispered.

“Y/N, love,” he looked at her. “What a lovely dress you’re wearing sit down, you’ll—you’ll actually be quite important here.”

She frowned, as she tried to pull him down to sit. “Tom.”

He burped. “So, we are here gathered up to celebrate this guy for getting down on one knee huh? Yes that’s—so bloody amazing,” he chuckled.

“Tom,” her voice was dark.

He turned to her, sloppily kissed her cheek. “I’ll be with you in moment love,” he said shrugging off her hands. “so, okay, it’s—amazing, right? Finding the love of your life and loving them back it’s amazing isn’t it, to find the one, your one and only—soulmates if you all believe in that crap,” He laughed. “How incredible it is that two people find each other.”

“Tom,” this time it was her mother.

“Tom, can you please?”Y/N insisted.

“Y/N—let me be,” he frowned as the room was turning around. He was dizzy, and his movements were very slow. “You know what? ladies and gentleman, actually, here—y/n, her,” he pulled her into a side hug. “Dunno if you know her she’s the maid of honor, beautiful girl, talented.”

“Thomas,” Harry warned.

Harrison approached him. “Tom, come on, sit down.”

“I’m trying to give a speech to my brother, shh,” Tom laughed. “I—look, I would’ve written a speech but we all know I’m not the writer here, no, no I’m not y/n, am I?” he laughed. “She’s a screenplay writer and she’s amazing at what she does you know? Incredible stories and I—I read something of her lately. About how people fall in love, and people--hic-- breaking each other’s hearts.” He managed to say between dizzy and slurred words.

Y/N froze.

“It’s… It’s stupid, if you love someone and they don’t… they don’t love you back, huh? And it’s horrible when you don’t love who you want to love” Tom laughed. “It’s…I’m really glad you found Emma, brother, because the love of your life didn’t love you back, huh? It’s good you settled down.” He had continued between burps and drunken giggles. “Let’s hope Emma actually loves you and isn’t planning to pull a—what’s it called? Perfidy? Right, y/n? Let’s hope Emma actually loves you back and isn’t planning on breaking your heart.”

“Thomas,” Dom had approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The crowd started to mumble. And Harry was telling him to stop. Y/N couldn’t move.

But everyone seemed to be frozen too, as if even if they wanted to stop him they were too invested in this to stop him.

“No, no, it’s true, Harry here had been in love with her, with y/n his whole life and he couldn’t get her and that’s how life is sometimes,” he laughed. “Ah dad, remember you asked about her script? It’s amazing, I read it! she wrote how she actually did love Harry back! We were all wrong, it’s always been Harry, don’t worry Tim, it wasn’t me, it’s not you, it was Harry” He laughed. “At one point but guess what? It’s my bloody fault they’re not together—“

Harrison finally managed to tackle the drunken Tom, who was very dizzy, tipsy and blurry to even know the whole chaos he’d caused with just a few words.

He didn’t even know what had happened, or how he got to the entrance with Sam, his father, his mother and even James yelling at him. He was too drunk to even listen, they were all angry.

Dom and Nikki eventually left as he was going to apologize to Emma’s family. It was all chaos.

“Where’s—where’s y/n?” That’s all he could ask.

“You’re—You’re really fucking asking that?” Sam yelled. “What the fuck was that?”

“I told the truth,” he hiccuped.

Haz frowned. “By fucking ruining your brother’s engagement party and even his fucking engagement, too?”

“He loves y/n,” Tom continued “which by the way—“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Y/N’s voice was heard.

“Nothing, darling, I just fucking made your life easier, so you can benwith the actual love of your life, ” Tom snapped.

She had been crying, she turned to Sam and Harrison. “Give me a minute with him, please.”

Sam watched her, hurt.

“Sam, please,” she begged and they stepped back, giving them space.

Tom saw her and then started to walk away, trying to look for his car.

“Oh, no, Tom,” she rushed after him, stopping him, “What the fuck was that?”

He laughed, and shrugged. “I’m just—I’m a monster y/n, what can I say?”

“So fine, you read the fucking script,” she raised her voice. “You didn’t have to pull a scene.”

“Ha, don’t you love it, it’s perfect!” He raised his arms. “You can use that on your script!”

“For god’s sake, Tom, why did you—Was that the reason why you kept ignoring me? And now you do this? You ruined everything!”

“So, go write it then!” He growled. “Make some fucking money out of it.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she cried.

“No, I do.”

“Did you even read the fucking thing?” She barked. “Seems like you just fucking read one page!”

“I did read it,” he admitted. “And I’m a monster ain’t I? I’m just looking to hurt you and bloody hell you’re right y/n, why would I—why would I ever fucking love you? You never know what’s going on with you.”

She was holding back her tears. “I love you, Tom I didn’t mean to—“She looked away. “I didn’t want to hurt you! I never thought this would happen—but you’re so bloody stupid, Tom!”

“Is that my name really? Or is it William?” He fumed. “And I should start calling you Valerie, shouldn't I?”

She closed her eyes. “Is that—the song, Tom, oh my god but why—did you have to do this?”

“Because you were sad anyway! You bloody want to be with Harry!” He claimed. “And—I’m fucking helping you with that.”

“I don’t, Tom!” She hissed, “I—and now you’ve ruined my friendship, and now you’ve ruined your brothers engagement all because you fucking didn’t ask about it, why did you even have to do that? It’s a bloody story!”

Tom walked away. “No it’s not, you know that.”

“I love you Tom,” she stated. “It's a story! I was—I didn’t mean to hurt you, and i certainly didn’t fucking want this mess! I—Why did you have to do this?”

“No, you don't! You don’t love me, you just fell in love with your writings, with the idea of what it would be to have your childhood crush fall in love with you, and you settled! because that’s all you want the fucking aesthetic the fucking story but you don’t live y/n, nothing matters to you!” He snapped.

“You matter to me,” she snapped. “If you fucking didn’t matter I wouldn’t be out here fucking trying to mend things! You really think I would be here? Even after that you just did?”

Tom avoided her glance. “Yet you still wrote that.”

“And I was going to tell you!”

Tom scoffed. “What for, anyway? This was just a good fuck and that’s it, should’ve stayed there and it doesn’t matter because it meant nothing.”

She stepped back. “You can’t say it meant nothing.”

“I think I just did, and alright I was hurt but—Hey, I’m gonna get over it, and you just lost everything, Tim, Harry, me, I don’t even think Sam will talk to you after this,” he pushed. “So I think I’m fine with this, for my own revenge without even planning on it, go be lonely again y/n because you fucking deserve it!”

She stepped even more far from him. “You really—want to blame this on me.”

“May I remind you what you wrote of me?” Tom crossed his arms. “How you fucking started dating me because of a script?”

“I didn’t—I—“

“You did, initially.”

“I’ve been in love with you my entire fucking life and—It was a shitty thing to do but I swear Tom, I didn’t mean to—“

“You didn’t? You just got a job out of it, you perfectly knew you wanted this,” he barked. “You know what? You’re a good actress made me believe you actually wanted this, maybe you should consider pursuing that instead, not writing!”

“I was not pretending anything,” she sighed,

“You lied y/n.”

“I didn’t lie.”

More people were walking out of the party and they watched them, fighting in the middle of the road. Y/N dragged him to the other side of the road.

“I didn’t lie.”

“Withholding information is a lie,” Tom pointed out.

“I—I didn’t tell you because I was going to rewrite it,” she gulped.

“No you weren’t , y/n, you—“

“Tom, I was planning to tell you I just—“ she pursed her lips. “I didn’t want to ruin this.”

“Well you did!” He continued walking away. “Have fun with the script, it’s not even good by the way, utter bullshit!”

She laughed, “Yeah, I know, they rejected it.”

He turned and smirked, raising his arms in the air. “That’s excellent news then.”

“You don’t have to be an asshole,” she yelled at him.

“And besides how could I love someone as shitty who knew—You knew Harry was in love with you and you did nothing? And you fell in love with him—“

“You don’t understand anything!”

“Ah, I know because I’m the—What words did you use? dumbest person you’ve ever met?” He chuckled walking back to her, “that was it, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t—“

“It was there y/n, but don’t worry, I’m okay, I understand this, this was just to get back at me for the fucking yellow flowers, is the dress your way telling me that you won?”

She was crying now. “You didn’t read it—“

He watched her, incredulous, “I don’t think I have to y/n!” He bellowed. “I think I read enough—and oh my god I was so stupid thinking it was Tim—“

She gulped. “Tom.”

“Piss off, y/n,” he continued walking down the street. His car was nowhere to be found, and he didn’t even have his keys.

“No, Tom, please—I really—“she ran to him again. “I really love you I didn’t mean to—“

“No, y/n, you dont, you never did but hey that’s on me isn’t it? For being such a monster and such an asshole.”

“And you’re still acting like one! Look what you did!”

“You made me do that—You know what? You don’t even know my side to this story, how you never cared, how nothing I did cared, because hey, I tried my whole life to show it to you and you never cared! You would’ve noticed how much I loved you if only you’d just paid attention but nothing matters to you unless it’s something you can use in your-I don’t even know, you know you probably were just prancing around you were in love with me so you could play the victim because yes I was bad but—Jesus you—You never felt anything for me how was I so stupid! I feel like—You weren't even hurt and it was just what you thought should happen like your movies or whatever, because I don’t even think you ever loved me! That’s it!” He laughed.

“How can you say that? I made a mistake!” She babbled.

“And I’ve made them too but I don’t go around writing it—“

“You fucking made a speech ruining everything! Don’t you think that’s worse?” She cried.

“And you loved Harry?”

She stayed quiet. Tom licked his lips as he rubbed his face.

“Well?”

“Yes at some point but you have to understand—“she turned her voice calmer. “When he’s shown me his whole life that he loved me I did—think about it and you pull this kind of shit and you expect me to be okay?” She chided. “Yet I choose you.”

“Do you?”

“Even after that shit you just fucking pulled, even after that I’m here trying to fucking—I don’t even know what Im doing, even after that—I still love you what the fuck do you think that is?”

Tom shook his head. “Well I don’t, y/n I can’t love someone so bloody selfish.”

“I’m the selfish one?” She croaked. “When you just fucking ruined your brothers party? Am I really the selfish one?”

“Why didn’t you choose Harry?” Tom asked.

She watched him with frustration. “You can’t possibly—“

“It was before Rome, wasn’t it?”

“You knew it, you fucking knew it, Tom,” she clenched her jaw. “it was like you planned it, don’t play the victim here, before Rome, you saw it and you couldn’t stand it, you couldn’t stand that it was him for the first time and not you—“

Tom stepped back. “That’s not true.”

“Then why did you go to Rome? You had nothing to do there and you know it!” She called him out.

Tom gulped. “I didn’t.”

She was sobbing now, Tom saw Harrison and Sam Approaching them.

“Tom—I don’t even, Harry is happy with Emma, I was happy with you— why did you do this?”

“Because we don’t fucking work, I’m too hurt to pretend I love you.”

She nodded, and then chuckled. “To pretend—“

“I’m fucking leaving.”

“Great, I’ll go fix your fucking mess,” she yelled at him as she rushed back into the house.

But there are first times, and there are last times. It’s just a matter of retrospective to see if it's the end of a beginning or the beginning of an end, even if both of them showed how big of perfidy they can pull.

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hutchhitched · 4 years

Text

Only One K

Newly married, Katniss and Peeta honeymoon in a remote cabin where no one can hear how happy they make each other. When an unexpected thunderstorm forces them inside for the day, Katniss suggests filling the time with a game of Scrabble. She decides to get a little creative with her spelling when there’s only one K tile.

Written for @promptsinpanem’s 15 Days to Finish Your Fic (For Kika) event

Rating: E

Author’s note: Back in July 2014, I was dreading a family event, but I was distracted by a wonderful gift—a sexy story sent through anon asks. When I shared my delight over the kind gesture with @authoresskika, she admitted she’d written it for me. It’s a wonderful example of Kika’s generosity and caring nature that she took her time to make my day better with her writing. As I struggled to decide what to write for this challenge, I remembered her story and decided to draft its prequel. While this can stand on its own, I suggest you read her story first.

Farewell, Kika! There really is only one you.

______________

“I’m gonna come,” Katniss pants, her voice rising with every word. “Peeta, I’m gonna come.”

Her husband doesn’t answer. His eyes are closed, head thrown back as he thrusts upward to meet the frantic rocking of her hips. His jaw flexes and so do his pecs as she bounces up and down on his cock. His fingers dig into her hips, helping guide her as she rides him. Curls are plastered to his forehead with sweat, and she tosses her head impatiently as her long hair sticks to her neck and face. She should have left it in a braid, but Peeta had unraveled it with such tenderness the night before she hadn’t wanted to protest at the time.

His voice is wrecked when he groans her name. With great effort, he blinks his eyes open to catch her gaze, and electricity shoots through her at the intimacy. His skin, slick with sweat, glistens in the beams of light streaming through the window. His hips slide against her inner thighs, and she can’t help but thrill at the power in his muscular frame. A rhythmic smack of the headboard against the wall matches that of their bodies pounding against each other. Both ring in her ears. It’s erotic and dirty and so, so good.

Heat pools in her stomach, and she gasps for breath. He guides her fingers to her clit and joins her with varied speeds and concentric circles. Captivated by the way the tip of his tongue peeks between his plump pink lips, she matches it with her own. Hers feel swollen from the amount of use they’ve gotten over the past few days, but that’s to be expected. They are on their honeymoon, after all.

“Peeta. Oh! Yeah. Yeah! Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhh.” The third iteration slurs into a heated groan as her body tips over the edge into climax. Climaxes. So many climaxes in the past few days, and they just keep getting better.

“Don’t stop,” he grunts through gritted teeth when she slows. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Breathless, she whines, “I can’t— I—”

He pushes himself to sitting and pulls her torso against his chest. Cradling her cheek in his palm, he kisses her fiercely before growling, “You can.”

And then she’s moving again as he wraps her legs around his waist and tilts her back until the angle of his cock rubs her just the right way and makes her want to scream. She’s never understood the term power bottom, but she does now. She’s at his mercy as he fucks into her, his biceps bulging, bending her back and biting her nipples. A shout rips from her, unbidden when his teeth clench a little too hard.

Peeta stiffens beneath her and releases. Shouts and moans and curses and squelches and slapping skin and a million other sounds fill the room. She writhes against him and then crests again. He strokes her through it until they collapse into a tangle of limbs. Unable to move, she floats, euphoric and detached, and enjoys the afterglow.

It’s a while before either of them is coherent. Peeta nuzzles her neck with open-mouthed kisses and little nibbles that occasionally have the sting of a full bite. His hands roam her bare skin, and she’s loath to move. Not when he’s still inside her, cradling her to his chest. Her new husband, Peeta Mellark, the love of her life.

Eventually, she has to shift. Stretching, she grimaces at the feel of him slipping from her. Fluid trickles down her inner thigh as she pulls off to roll onto her side. He palms her, sliding his fingers in their combined ejaculate. He paints her stomach with the moisture before licking his fingers clean. It’s so lewd, she squirms to the far side of the bed. She needs a break before another round, and what he’s doing is a definite turn on in spite of her fatigue.

“Good morning,” he murmurs and rolls over to slide back against her. “That was quite a wakeup call.

“I’m so gross,” she complains and pushes at his hand, but he continues to run his fingers through the wetness.

“I don’t think you’re gross. In fact, I think you’re just right. Covered in my come. It sliding out of you and down your legs. All waxed and smooth except for that sexy little runway strip that’s soaking wet. Open for me but tight inside. Clenching around me. Milking me dry.”

The words melt like warm butter and run down her spine until she’s puddled against him, desperate for his touch, but way too oversensitive. He dips his hand between her legs again and rubs featherlight circles on her sensitive skin. His tongue traces her neck and jawline until she whimpers and jerks away from him.

“You know,” she grumbles, “when we agreed on a remote cabin in a national park for our honeymoon, I kind of thought we might actually see some of the scenery.”

He chuckles as his mouth closes over her nipple. “That was silly,” he chided. “My plan was always to get you naked and keep you that way as long as possible.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“Not if you’re planning to put on clothes.”

“Peeta, I need a shower.”

“No. No shower.”

“I’m filthy,” she insists, even though her resolve weakens by the second.

“I’ll clean you up.”

“What do you—”

She cuts off in a strangled groan as he slides down her body and buries his face in her pussy. He sucks and licks, alternating fast flicks of his tongue with long, slow sucks of her clit into his mouth. She gives in, losing herself to the feel of him burrowing against her and his tongue plunging inside deeper and deeper. She’s made entirely of sensation. There are no thoughts, no cares in the world, nothing outside of this moment and her husband making love to her in every conceivable way.

Peeta’s a wonderful lover—considerate, passionate, flexible, sculpted, and generous. She’s luckier than she deserves, but she’s enormously grateful he chose her. Since she opened her heart, she’s never doubted that she’s always been it for him since the moment he saw her. It took her longer to fall in love, but that doesn’t mean her fervor is any less real. She feels more like herself when she’s with him than any other time. Sex with him could inspire sonnets if she had the same gift of words he does.

She wrings herself out on him multiple times over the next several hours. He’s insatiable, and she’s powerless to resist him. They stumble to the kitchen for sustenance and end up sprawled on the table. He presses her to the wall in the shower and bends her over the couch when they try to watch a movie. Later, in bed, she rolls over to face him, so exhausted her eyelids droop and her words slur.

“Gotta go outside house ’morrow,” she insists, both drunk and high on endorphins. A lazy smile spreads across his handsome face at her garbled speech, but she forces out her rationale. “Can’t do marathon day of sex. Need fresh air. Outdoors. Grass. Trees. Sky. Sunsets. Stars.”

“I’ll make you see stars,” he teases and kisses the tip of her nose.

“’M serious,” she hums. Blinking her eyes rapidly at him in an over-exaggerated attempt at flirting (at least she thinks she is), she begs, “Take me out, Peeta. See the world thingy.”

His lips meet hers in a soft kiss. “Whatever you want. I’m yours, you know. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, inside and outside.”

“Don’t ’member that part o’ the vows,” she argues sleepily.

“You were probably distracted by my good looks.”

“Maybe,” she sighs and sinks into the mattress. “T’morrow. Outside. No sexing. Tired.”

“Well, I’ll let you in on a secret,” he whispers in her ear.

“Hmmm?”

“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

A tired giggle bursts from her, and she manages to ask, “Anytime?” She drifts into darkness as his answer drops from his lips.

It’s still dark when she opens her eyes.

Katniss blinks awake as a rumble of thunder shakes the cabin. It’s dark as midnight. Peeta snuffles softly in his sleep, his even breathing a salve to being shaken from her slumber. She slips from under her husband’s arm and stumbles to the bathroom, so she can pop her birth control pill and rinse her mouth with mouthwash. A flash of lightning startles her, and she hurries back to the bed and tugs the sheets back over her. Cuddling into Peeta’s warm body, she tenses when he pokes against her. It must be morning, because there’s a lot of wood. Struck with inspiration, she flips the sheet to the other side of the bed and grabs the bottle of lube off the nightstand. Slicking up her palm, she grasps him and pumps.

He grunts and rolls onto his back, inadvertently giving her better access. She rubs her thumb over the head and squeezes as she pumps. His sleepy response melts her heart. His hips twitch until he’s fucking into her hand and releasing desperate noises that sound remarkably like begging.

She rains kisses over his face and murmurs against his lips, “Peeta, are you awake?”

His answer is a broken sob and thrusting hips. Determined to make him feel even better, she leans down and takes him in her mouth. His breath catches and then rips from him. She sucks in her cheeks and catches her front teeth on his slit. Bobbing her head, she slobbers until her spit covers him and runs over her fist.

“Sweetheart. Oh, fuck!”

And then he’s coming, his cock pulsing in her mouth and his come spurting against the back of her throat. He’s bitter on her taste buds, but she slurps greedily, intent on lapping up everything he gives her. He whines high in the back of his throat until he softens with a sated groan.

“Good morning,” she says with a satisfied smirk. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmm,” he agrees with a dopey grin. “Woke up better. Thought you wanted a sex break today. You didn’t need to get me off to get me up.”

“Just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Sweetheart, you know I lean left—both politically and anatomically,” he teases and leans in for a kiss. It turns obscene so quickly her head spins. Only a particularly loud clash of thunder and burst of lightning snaps them apart. She’s still catching her breath when the rain starts, softly at first and then opening into a torrential downpour.

“We were supposed to go outside today!” she wails.

“Ah, honey,” he teases, a twinkle belying his insincerity. “Looks like the good Lord wants us to stay naked and have more sex.”

“Pretty sure the good Lord wants us to get dressed and play Scrabble.”

Peeta snorts before falling onto his back and shaking with laughter. When he’s finally able to breathe, he runs his fingers through his messy curls and acquiesces.

“I like my plan better, but I’ll play Scrabble if you want to.”

Katniss squeals and smacks away his hand that had managed to find its way to her breasts. Shaking her head, she stipulates, “Breakfast first, lover boy, and then board games. We’ve burned so many calories the past few days, I’ve lost a clothing size. I mean, I really like sexing you up, but damn. I need the break.”

Peeta grins at her and leans up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself, but the second you say the word, I’m gonna be inside you again so fast…”

“Kinky,” she laughs as she rolls to her feet. “I’m gonna shower. Do not follow me with your erection. I’ll only disappoint it.”

“Kika? What’s that?”

“I said, ‘kinky,’ weirdo.”

“Calling me names doesn’t make me any less horny!” he hollers after her as she shuts the door and steps under the warm spray.

She takes her time, soaping her hair and body with a lovesick grin on her face. She still has trouble accepting that Peeta adores her as much as he does. He was the only man she knew patient enough to wait for her to work through her reluctance to be intimate with anyone after her father died, and his constant kindness and willingness to be whatever she needed during high school and college had finally won her over. Now, almost thirty and newly married, she’s happier than she’s ever been. Even so, it still takes an inordinate amount of effort to push back the nagging thoughts that she doesn’t deserve any of it.

“He loves me,” she insists to the empty room, “and I love him. I deserve to be happy.”

“Breakfast’s ready. Come and get it. Dress is optional,” Peeta calls through the closed door.

“Coming!”

She switches off the water and quickly plaits her hair into a wet braid. She hesitates for only a second before tossing her towel onto a rack and walking into the kitchen completely naked. His back is to her when she enters, so she crowds up to him and wraps her arms around his waist.

“Smells good,” she murmurs into his warm skin. “Thanks for cooking.”

He turns to wrap his arm around her shoulder and tug her to his side and freezes. His eyes widen, and his eyes follow a trickle of water that escapes the tip of her braid and glistens on her breast.

“You clean up nice,” he coughs. “Coffee?”

Peeta keeps his word and lets her eat. He watches her as she arches her back and crosses and uncrosses her legs repeatedly. Pancakes have never been so sexy as she makes a show of enjoying every bite of fluffy goodness, and if she allows a sticky bit of syrup to cling to her lips so she can lick it off with the very tip of her tongue, well, that’s just payback for him sexing her up so hard she needs a lot of food to recover. By the time she finishes, Peeta’s given up all pretense of eating and is openly leering at her. He adjusts himself as she sips the last little bit of her coffee and appraises him.

“Scrabble?”

“I can think of better things to do.”

“Well, yes, I’m sure you can, but you promised me board games, darling husband. It’s time.”

��“Oh, come on,” he protests, but she rises and waltzes to the couch. She exaggerates the swing of her hips just to torment him a little more.

“Peeta Mellark, we’ve done it on every surface of this cabin. I’d like to beat your butt in word games, now, please.”

“What about the car? We haven’t done it there yet.”

“Car sex? Really? That sounds so uncomfortable.”

“Not if you do it right,” he grumbles and runs his hand down her side and along her flank.

“It would take a lot to get me in the mood in a car.”

“Well, that’s not going to stop me from trying.”

“You’re incorrigible. Doesn’t your sex drive ever take a rest? Come on. Help me set up.”

“You’re just going to sit there naked and distract me so you can win, aren’t you?”

“Obviously.”

“Completely unfair,” he grumbles as he grabs tiles and arranges them in a row.

“So whiny. Remind me why I love you,” she teases, her smirk widening at his pout.

“For my large…vocabulary.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Shhh,” he hisses and places his first word.

They play back and forth for a while, and she accumulates more and more points. When she draws a K and Y to add to her tiles, she decides her hundred-point lead is enough. Besides, it’s weird playing scrabble naked when her husband’s sporting a stiffy in his pajama pants.

Peeta furrows his brow as he examines her play. “K-I-N-C-Y? Uh, challenge. That’s not a real word.”

She curses the board game for limiting the tiles to only one K. How else is she supposed to get her point across subtly?

“It’s hard.”

He flushes and presses his palm to his crotch. “You’re naked! It’s not my fault,” he protests. “You can’t expect me to concentrate when you’re sitting there like that.” He waves his hand at her, and she grins.

“I meant, the C.”

“What?”

“Read the word with a hard C.”

Confused, he looks at it again and experiments with different pronunciations. “Ken-see? Kin-sigh? Kin— I don’t get it.”

“Read it like a K.”

“Kinky? Oh… That’s not how you spell it, though.”

“True, but there’s only one K in Scrabble, and that’s my word.”

“Your word?”

Katniss sighs heavily. If she didn’t know how hard he’d been trying to get her back into bed, she’d swear he was being deliberately obtuse. Standing, she crosses to Peeta and straddles his lap before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “You told me the second I said the word you’d be inside me again. You’re late. A lot of seconds have passed. Kinky was my word, remember?”

She yelps as he shoves her onto the coffee table. Scrabble tiles press into her back as he shucks his pants. He’s on her in seconds, his mouth devouring hers as he opens her with probing fingers and searing kisses. When they finish, her husband traces a message on her chest and then spells it out with tiles. There are plenty of tiles to spell “I love you.”

#15days #promptsinpanem #everlark #authoresskika #krousewrites #in memoriam

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cloudninetonine · 3 years

Note

if ur cool with angst what about Howie and MC as like the last two people alive (as far as they know) and trying to comfort/distract each other before their shelter is inevitably invaded by zombies

This is kinda late but seeing as it’s Halloween it’s fashionably late

You weren’t really scared.

Not anymore.

Just…..tired.

Tired of all this running, of all hiding, of the fighting, just-

Tired. Tired of everything.

So, when you were finally cornered into a little shack somewhere in Ohio, surrounded by a hoard of wailing zombies that clawed at the feeble wood of your abode, drawing closer with each passing second- you gave up.

Poe and Tess were...gone. Tess had gone down fighting, like the kickass Texan she was, smiling tearfully but strong towards you all, shouting for you guys to “keep going!” as the van drove away from her, you screaming bloody murder while Howie held you and Poe drove, face stoic despite the tears that fell. He was next to go, sacrificed himself to blow up the van and kill the other hoard that was chasing you. Howie had reassured you that it was the only way, that Poe did it so that both of you could live, but you both knew it wasn’t the case. In your hearts, you both knew that he had time to escape, to get out, but he chose to stay, he chose to die fighting and join Tess in whatever happened after death. He missed her, it was obvious and now they were together.

Both of you would be joining them soon.

“Maybe, maybe…” Howie had been pacing ever since you had broken into the shack; you had to give it to him, he was determined to get the two of you out of here but you knew he was just trying to deny the inevitable, delaying the thought that this would be your last few moments together instead of accepting it.

You didn’t blame him, he was scared and you wished that you could take his fear away.

“The roof!” He slammed his hand down in his palm, face lighting up “We could escape using the roof! We’ll just climb to the trees nearby and-”

He was just grabbing at straws now.

The both of you knew that the shabby old roof wouldn’t be able to support the weight of one, forget about the both of you.

You hated not helping, not trying to give a solution but you saw no reason to get your hopes up for something that wouldn’t work.

“-then we’ll jump into the river nearby-”

It was time to end this charade of hope.

“Howie” You whispered, voice soft from crying and exhaustion.

Finally, he stopped, shoulders falling and expression fading away.

You held open your arms “Hold me?”

With a last, tired sigh, the gentle giant dragged himself over to the bed that you had sat yourself on, laying down on the rickety cot so that you could cuddle against him, ignoring the sounds of the raging hoard outside.

It was nice, Howie was really warm and despite the muscle, was comfy to cuddle against, especially the plush of his chest, just wonderful.

You really wished you cuddled him like this earlier, spent more time with him, met him before all this horror movie shit started, that this wasn’t happening-

The tears began to fall before you realised, sobs wracking through your body while Howie held you, face shoved into your hair and holding back his own tears. For so long, you had been strong for all of them, you had kept a grip on your hope during this while shitstorm, act as a rock for your group of friends and in that moment, you deserved to release everything, your stress, your fears, your sadness- he would be your rock in your last moments because that was all he could do for you now.

Another violent bang echoed through the shack, this time followed with a crack of broken wood.

They were finally breaking through.

And it finally set in.

The fear.

“Howie, I’m scared”

Howie’s hold on you tightened.

“I know, I know”

Something caught his eye on the bedside table and he reached for it, holding it between the two of you as you examined it.

A revolver, your revolver, if you wanted to be precise. You had grabbed it earlier on you journey, just before Cleveland, you guys had driven past a gun shop while on your journey and after sharing a look between the four of you, you swerved around and scavenged the shop. It was pretty much empty, which was in no surprise, but you had found some weapons in the back, not the best, a bunch of melees and a few older guns, but you didn’t need anything special. Tess, like her, picked a shotgun, an axe for Howie, baseball bat for Poe and for you, the old revolver. Call yourself old fashioned, but it just seemed fitting for some reason.

Though now, you wished you had picked something better.

Howie clicked open the cylinder and frowned.

“One bullet left, I was hoping there would be more….” He left it open, but you knew what he was getting at.

He wished there was more so you could die peacefully, instead of torn to shreds by the hands of the undead.

It was a morbid thought but it sounded so much better than the latter.

“You should-”

“No” Howie dismissed your idea before you could even finish, handing you the gun with a look of fierce determination in his eyes “You should”

“Howie-”

“No, (Name)-”

“Please-”

“You can't change my mind about this, (Name)”

One look in his eyes proved his point: you couldn't change his mind, he would not budge and this was final.

The last bullet was yours and yours alone.

But you were stubborn.

Grabbing the gun, you placed it back onto the table, lying back down in the cot but turning away from him, knowing that one look at him would make you falter, and eventually, accept his wishes.

“We’ll just die together, then”

“(Name), you can't-” You brushed his hand away when it grabbed your shoulder, curling deeper into yourself as you reminded yourself that ‘you were not gonna let him die alone, especially a slow, painful death.

“Just get back down here, Howie”

“Would you just listen-”

“No-”

“(NAME)!” Howie grabbed you by the shoulders roughly, something you would have never expected him to do and tugged your back up to meet him, tears running down his cheeks and face filled with an abundance of fear, anxiety, exhaustion and love. You were tense in his arms as he shook you slightly, not from fear, but from pure heartache at how broken he looked, despite the hope he had displayed to you for so long.

Though, you guessed you shouldn’t have been surprised, even you had your breaking point when it came to hoping in this situation.

“Please” His voice cracked along with his plead, tears once again filling your eyes and making your lip wobble as you realised just how strong he felt about this, about sheltering you from the torture of been ripped apart by broken hands and gnashing teeth. “Please, just do it….do it for me, please?”

Softly, Howie’s forehead came to press against yours as he continued to beg “I don’t want you to suffer”

You were right, seeing his face would make you hesitate, would make you cave.

“And what if I don’t want you to suffer, huh?” You squeaked, holding his cheeks “What if I don’t want you to die alone and in pain? Huh? Does my opinion not matter?”

He stroked your own cheek “Of course it does and I know you’re scared for me...but it’ll be okay. I’ll be okay, you gotta trust me on this”

“But you won’t” You insisted “You’ll be torn apart by zombies! How is that gonna be okay?”

Despite the situation, despite the fear and everything else that only made you feel worse, Howie sent you one of the breathtaking smiles he knew you loved and somehow, it made you feel better. “Because I’ll know that you won’t be suffering alongside me”

Howie was adamant, that was what you knew to be true and finally, after it finally slapped you hard in the face, you accepted that you could not change his mind.

Not a single bit.

“Okay”

His face brightened “Okay?”

“Okay,” You repeated, smiling with wet eyes “I’ll...do it. I’ll take the last bullet”

In a moment of pure relief, on his side anyway, he tugged you closer and kissed you, hard. It almost felt bruising, but it felt so good to feel his lips against yours, to feel him against you and you kissed Howie back with the same ferocity that he gave you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you-” The man whispered on repeat, once again pressing his forehead against your own. “Thank you, (Name), thank you so much”

Why did Douglas have to make that fucking wish?

You hoped he was on the other side of death, so you could slam your fist right into his nose.

Though, you were positive Tess and Poe were already way ahead of you on that.

The gun glinted in Howie’s hand and you realised that while in your head, he had grabbed it for you.

“If it weren’t for our situation, I would be offended by your insistence” You joked, grabbing the gun from his hand after sharing a short laugh with him.

A click sounded in your ears when you cocked the revolver.

You flinched.

“It’s okay” He brushed some of your hair back before cupping your cheek “It’ll be quick and you won’t feel a thing”

You hoped so.

“Can….can you turn away?” You squeezed his hand “I-...I don’t want you to see this”

Howie nodded, finally releasing you and moving back, his body turning to show you his back.

Howie trusted you.

You were so glad he did.

Swallowing harshly, you leaned against the gentle giant and grabbed his hand, feeling his warmth radiate.

You wanted it to be the last thing on your mind.

“Howie?”

The man rolled his shoulders “Yeah?”

The gun clinked when you readied for the shot.

“I love you….and I’m sorry”

You missed his smile. “I love you too, (Nam-”

A gunshot echoed through the shack, loud and frightening despite the groans, wails and screams of the zombies outside. The bullet made contact with flesh, the sound of it tearing through was sickening but the feeling of warm, thick blood flying in the air and hitting skin.

You felt Howie’s body hunch backwards, the hole from the bullet gushing blood onto your clothes and staining the red as you finally began to cry, moving your hand from his now limp one to hold him, moving his body to lay beside you in the bed.

“I’m sorry, Howie” Moving the man to his back, you softly dragged your hand over his face to close his eyes, ignoring the other hole centred in his forehead. Kissing his stained lips one last time, you cuddled into him, closing your eyes. “I love you”

More cracks echoed through the room, one, two, three, four-light flooded in and hands appeared through the gaps, waving violently in your direction.

“I love you”

---

From your spot in the van, you snapped up, breathing heavily and on the brink of a panic attack.

“Where-” Your eyes scanned your surroundings, completely missing your setting in favour of finding the only thing on your mind right now.

Howie.

“H-Howie-” You heaved, grabbing at your chest when you couldn’t find him. “Ho-”

There was a rustle from the front, a familiar mop of blonde hair popping from the front seat.

“Geez” Tess joked, the zombie rubbing her eye “I know I’m undead and all but I’d still appreciate a nap once in a while-”

The Texan’s playful smile dropped at the look of your tearful expression, curling into yourself with your hurried breaths coming out short and wheezy. Tess didn’t hesitate to jump over the seat, pulling you close and shushing you softly, ignoring when you whacked her in a panic only to finally collapse against her in a mess of sobs.

“You’re alright, (Name)” She reassured, patting your back to comfort you “You’re okay, don’t worry”

Your face was buried into her neck, clutching her desperately “Tess- I- Where’s- Where’s Howie- He’s not-”

“He and Poe just went to take a leak” Tess laughed, hoping that the laughter would speed up the episode you were having and calm you down “He’s fine- they’re both fine”

It didn’t completely calm down until the boys had returned, laughing at a joke one of them had shared until you had practically tackled them, holding them close and crying harshly. Tess responded with a shrug when they sent her a look and joined the huddle, the four of you holding one another close until your sobs finally subsided and your breath had returned to you.

“(Name), what- mffphhhh-” You shut Howie up with a deep kiss, holding softly onto his cheek and closing your eyes while he leaned into it, buff arms wrapping around your waist and kissing you back just as deeply. Tess whistled, Poe coughed and you eventually pulled away, pressing your foreheads against each other.

“I love you” You didn’t care it was the first time you said it, not after such a horrid dream.

Howie choked.

“I….I love you too”

#nix hydra #fictif #fictif roadkill #fictif howie #howie yan #howie yan x mc #howie x mc #howie yan x reader #howie yan imagine

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waiting-for-motivation · 4 years

Text

the books we used to read

summary: They were close as childern. Will they ever be like that as adults?

request: Hi! I was wondering if you maybe could write a one shot about Diego from the Umbrell Academy? Maybe where the reader is n. 8, and she goes back to the mansion when her dad dies, and there she finds Diego, who she was very close with until he suddenly ran away one night without saying goodbye to her? They haven’t seen each other ever since and she’s still hurt by it and such. (Maybe it’s a bit concrete but I’d love to read something like this) ~ @white-wolf-buckaroo

pairings: Diego Hargreeves x Reader (platonic)

warnings: angsty fluff, soft!Diego

words: 1259

a/n: my brain is broken after my latin test so I hope this makes sense. btw her power is super speed if you would like to know :)

taglist: @remibarnes22

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

A slight wind touches Diegos skin. For one second, it feels like a hand caressed his cheek, then he can‘t feel the harness with his knife on his body anymore. Immediately, he places a hand over his chest and looks around with a confused expression.

“Are you looking for this, Diego?“, (Y/n) asks with a huge grin on her lips. The harness in her right hand swings from side to side. Her left hand holds a shinny knife up in the air.

While Klaus laughs like he has never seen anything funnier, Diego sighs and rips the harness out of her grip. “Keep the knife. Maybe you trip and kill yourself“, he grumbles in a deep voice, going upstairs and disappearing in his room.

(Y/n) giggles and sits down next to her other brother. Klaus takes a sip from his glass of what can only be alcohol. The female closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Why does he hate me?“, she asks and twirls the knife between her fingers.

Ever since she stepped a foot inside the mansion, Diego either avoided her or threw insults (and knives) at her. They haven‘t seen each other since a lot of years, so, of course, they aren‘t as close as they were when Diego left. But if one of them would have the right to be angry, it would be (Y/n). Diego was the one who left her without saying goodbye.

“He probably is sad about the death of his daddy. Give him some time to cry and mourn“, Klaus says and smiles at his sister. He‘s clearly drunk.

Although (Y/n) feels a deep ache inside her heart, she laughs. After taking another deep breath, she stands up and leaves the living room, heading towards their rooms. It‘s probably not the best idea, but she wants to talk to Diego. Why is he treating her like she is Luther? Why did he leave all those years ago without saying a word? Why can‘t they be brother and sister like they were when they were younger?

In front of Diegos door she stops. Slowly, she raises her hand to knock, but she can‘t bring herself to do it. Diego seemed furious with her when she came back here, but why? Did she do something wrong? If someone made a mistake, then it would be Diego. He was the one to leave. He promised her they would leave together. And then he leaves in the middle of the night without saying goodbye?

She knocks but Diego doesn‘t answer because he can imagine who wants to visit him. He can‘t talk to her. She betrayed him. She is just like their father.

Without waiting anymore, (Y/n) enters the room and leans against the door frame. Diego is sitting on his bed, cleaning his knifes.

“Where did you get that scar from?“, the female asks and points to her own brow. The man on the bed doesn‘t look up but still answers.

“Boxing match“, Diego mumbles and places the knife back in it‘s sheath. Finally, he looks up but where love and care laid, are now anger as well as numbness. Diegos brown eyes are cold.

From one moment to the other, (Y/n) is sitting next to her brother. She used her powers to sit as quickly as possible on the bed. Diego doesn‘t look impressed, more like annoyed.

“What‘s wrong with you, Diego? I don‘t understand why you treat me like I broke one of your fancy knives. What did I do? We haven‘t seen each other in years. What could I have possibly done wrong to enrage you?“, (Y/n) asks with a shaking but loud voice. She fears Diegos answer.

“And that‘s the problem! We lost contact because of you...bec...because y-you chose dads side. You tol...told him tha..that we....that I wanted to lea...leave. You be...betrayed me!“, Diego stutters. In the beginning his voice is a scream, filling the small room but the more words he stutters, the quieter it gets. In his rage Diego stood up and walked through the room, only to stop at the end of his talk in front of his sister.

Both have tears in their eyes and their hands are shaking. To (Y/n)s surprise Diego falls to his knees, staring at his sister with wide eyes. He is deeply hurt and wants nothing more than to have his sister back.

“I didn‘t tell dad. I would have never done that to you. I really wanted to leave with you, D. He must have found it out somehow else“, the female whispers as she places one of her small hands on Diegos cheek.

“You...didn‘t tell him?“, Diego asks confused. (Y/n) nods and the next second she feels the mans strong arms around her body, lifting her from the bed. A giggle leaves the females lips, then she hides her face in Diegos neck.

“Oh a family hug“, Klaus laughs and joins the two, wrapping his arms around both of them.

Half an hour later Diego and (Y/n) are sitting on his bed again. While Diego throws one of his knives up in the air again and again, (Y/n) has her eyes closed, just enjoying the peaceful moment with her brother.

“Wait, it‘s still here?“, she asks after some time, staring at the little bookshelf at the wall. Quickly, she crawls over Diego and his bed to pull an old book out. She leans back against the wall and grins at her brother. “We used to read this almost every night, don‘t you remember?“

Diego nods but the first memory he connects with this book isn‘t a good memory. It‘s almost like he is back in the day again, cuddling with (Y/n) in his to small bed and reading this book. Your father came in and screamed at you for being still awake. Sometimes it felt like he hated the two of you the most. But he probably hated all of his kids.

Back then, (Y/n) was as stubborn as she is now. She stood up to her father and told him to leave them alone. But he didn‘t, instead he raised his hand against you and hit you.

Diego swallows hardly. That day was the day he promised himself and you that you will leave this terrible family soon. And then he left alone. He left you.

“I wish he was still alive“, Diego whispers and clenches his fists. The female next to him knows exactly who he means. She is not stupid. The book reminds her of that day and her horrible father too.

“I wish he was still alive so that I can tell him what I think about him. He was the worst father anyone could have. He treated us like experiments and never showed a spark of love. He treated you the worst and I can‘t get that picture out of my head where he hurt you. If he were still alive, I would probably kill him“, Diego says with shaking voice and tears start streaming over his face.

His sister places her hands on his cheeks and forces him to look in her (e/c) eyes. She smiles at him.

“He‘s dead, D. You‘re never going to see him again. He is gone, okay? He never was your family. I was...and maybe the other idiots here. Mom is your family, and Pogo. We‘re all here“, (Y/n) tells her brother who nods. After (Y/n) wiped the tears from his face, she takes the old book in her hands.

“Let‘s read it, what do you think?“

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader

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hystericalweenie · 4 years

Text

Just Another Day at the Office - New Experiences

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Four: Get to Know You

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n had found herself stuck in a scenario she’d never thought she’d ever have to face: she’d been catching feelings for a coworker. While she attempted to adapt to her new job and work load, she also had to get used to these new feelings and figure out what the fuck to do with them. George made her want to take risks, she didn’t care about the potentiality of a broken heart with him, because falling in love with him made it seem worth it. Is George falling for Y/n too? Will he be able to reciprocate her feelings?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! Since you guys seemed to like the text messages between Y/n and George, I decided to include a chunk of them, since there weren’t any in the last part.

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some making out, thigh riding and dry humping. Yes, y’all read that correctly.

George hadn’t spoken to me since the incident in his office. I figured it was because he’d been occupied with his friend, but when Saturday rolled around, he’d make up for all of the missed time between us.

Bree had informed me that she was going out with a group of our friends from college, which she’d invited me to, but I assured her that I was feeling ill and didn’t feel like leaving the house. I felt bad for lying, but I needed to see George. I missed him awfully; I missed the way his bare skin felt flush against mine, I missed seeing his smile and hearing his laughter, like music to my ears. I missed the feeling of his locks in my fingers, feeling his breath tickle my neck.

I couldn’t take it anymore; I messaged him immediately.

9:13 pm, Me: Apartment to myself... You busy?

Buzz.

9:14 pm, George: Nope. On my way.

I smirked to myself, hugging my phone to my chest before ripping my clothes off of me and replacing my casual undergarments with my best lace panties and matching black balconette bra. The thin lace and underwear revealed my nipples sexily enough through the unpadded, thin fabric of the bra. I grinned proudly at the lingerie before slipping into jeans that made my bum look extra good and a sexy tank top with lace trimming. Was it too much? Maybe. Did I care at this point? Nope.

I didn’t care to put shoes on, plopping on my stomach onto my bed, waiting for him to message me that he’d arrived. I was shocked when I heard a knock on my door, causing me to get up and open it with furrowed eyebrows. It swung open, revealing my favorite man standing with his hands in his pockets. I tilted my head.

“You remembered where my apartment was?” I asked him, putting my hands on his hips.

He nodded, leaning down to peck my forehead before entering. I blushed at his simple act of affection, shutting the door behind us and following him inside. I clapped my hands together, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” I suggested.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

I led him to the sofa, sitting myself down as he took a seat next to me. I grabbed the remote controller, opening Netflix and scrolling through the movies. I laughed out loud as a movie I’d watched the previous night with Bree popped up.

“What?” he asked, his lips curling in a smile at my sudden laughter.

“Bree and I watched this movie last night, and it’s really funny,” I explained to him, trying to fight back the giggles that threatened to escape as my brain replayed the funny scenes in my head.

“Well, put it on,” he ordered, gesturing his hand to the television. “Let’s see if it’s as funny as you claim.” He winked.

I pressed on the movie, slouching back into the sofa as it started. I wondered if I should’ve cuddled up next to him, or if that’d be too much. I kept my posture, keeping to myself as the opening credits rolled onto the screen.

As the movie began, I found my mind wandering immediately. My fingers began drumming onto the fabric of the couch, as I found myself staring at the screen, but my mind remained occupied with other thoughts. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I began to ponder George and I’s relationship again. I had just found out his birthday, and it made me uncomfortable that he’d explored so much of my body, yet I felt like I barely knew him.

“You alright?”

I turned my head to him. He looked concerned, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixated on me.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I pulled my legs up, crossing them as I slouched, trying to make myself more comfortable.

I returned my eyes back to the television, trying to concentrate on the film until my eyes scanned the room in thought, as my lip was pulled in between my teeth again.

I wondered what his favorite movie was, what kind of movies he’d liked. I didn’t like that I didn’t have the answers to these basic personality questions. I pondered what his childhood was like, if he’d met Dean in the United Kingdom before prior to moving to America.

“You’re doing it again.”

I whipped my head toward him and cocked an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You chew on your lip and stare off with your eyebrows furrowed,” he observed, moving closer to me. His blue eyes bore into mine as I guiltily stared back at him. He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, his eyes not leaving mine. “What’s wrong, love?”

I sighed, removing my eyes from our eye contact as my head lowered in thought. His fingers went to my chin, gently lifting it to meet his eyes again.

“I want you to be able to be honest with me, Y/n,” he admitted, his thumb running over my chin.

“I want to know more about you,” I confessed, my eyes worriedly staring back at his. “I feel like I barely know you.”

He smiled softly, bringing his hand up to my cheek, caressing my face. His hand trailed down my arm, down to my hand before bringing it up to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand softly before holding it in his own, lacing our fingers together.

“I was born in London,” he began, his eyes never leaving mine. “March thirteenth, nineteen ninety-two. As I’ve mentioned before, my father’s Australian and my mum’s British, but they chose to raise me in the UK, obviously. I have a sister named Daisy, who lives in London with my parents. I try to visit them during the holidays, but it’s not as easy with work. Sometimes, Dean and I will fly down together to visit both of our families.

“I moved to the states after graduating from Uni when I was about twenty-four years old; my parents weren’t super keen on me leaving to a whole new country by myself, but they wanted me to be happy. Dean and I didn’t meet until my first job after moving to New York. We hit it off so well, that we ended up moving in together, and not long after that, we met Andrew at the same job and invited him to move into our flat. About a year or so after, Dean and I decided to apply to Essence, because we felt that we needed a career change.

“Andrew ended up being promoted at our old job, so he wanted to stay there, plus, he’s happy working there whereas we weren't, really. Once we started working there, I decided to get my own flat; the pay at Essence was much better, I was almost entirely done paying off my student loans, and I felt that I was in need of a different atmosphere. Hearing your roommates play video games constantly, and being the only one who could cook in the house was not something I particularly looked forward to,” he laughed as he recollected the memories from the past.

“But, long story short, one day I’d been looking for Dean and I saw that there was a new girl, sitting across from his desk in a chair that I’d never seen occupied before. The way you talked to me, you were so nervous and innocent; After seeing you on multiple accounts, in the cafeteria, at your desk whenever I’d come to talk to Dean, I started thinking about you a lot more,” he admitted, his thumb tracing along my knuckles.

I noticed his cheeks tint scarlet and he wet his lips with his tongue, still maintaining eye contact with me.

“Like, I would go to the cafeteria and hope that I'd see you? I hope that doesn’t sound creepy,” he laughed a little. “And, when you told me how you felt at the bar, I was baffled.”

My eyes widened, as I tried to recollect the nonexistent memories of being at the bar that night. My eyebrows furrowed and I could feel my cheeks heat, wondering what the absolute fuck I said to him.

“What did I say to you at the bar?” I queried, chewing on the insides of my cheek anxiously.

He bit his lip, staring back at me for a moment, as if he was pondering how to tell me. He finally parted his lips, as he recalled our conversation at the bar that night.

Dean got up from his seat, leaving George and I to ourselves. I grabbed my glass and downed the rest of the vodka soda in the glass, slamming the empty glass down on the bar and turning my body to face him.

“Hi George,” I smiled, resting my chin on the palm of my hand, my elbow resting on the table.

He turned to me, his lips curling into a smile.

“Hi, Y/n.”

I giggled, smiling blissfully at the beautiful man next to me.

“George,” I began, batting my eyelashes as I looked up at him. “You’re so great.”

His eyebrows knitted together, an entertained smile evident on his lips as he looked down at me.

“And why is that?” He took a swig from his beer bottle as I began my slurring.

“Becaaauuuse, you’re a fucking art director, which is, like, crazy,” my bloodshot eyes bore into his bright, piercing blue ones. “And you’re, like, crazy handsome.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, smirking as my eyelids hung heavy, my eyes barely visible as I smiled. My face was red, as my cheeks had always heated up when I was drunk.

“You think so, love?”

I nodded, attempting to take a swig out of my glass as the empty cup poured nothingness into my mouth, reminding me that I’d finished off the drink minutes ago.

“You’re obliterated,” he observed.

“Want to know a secret?” I asked him in a sing-song voice. “I smoked weed before I got here, because my roommate told me it’d make me less anxious,” I whispered, giggling between words.

He raised his eyebrows, his jaw dropping before he started laughing.

“Jesus, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so reckless,” he gasped.

“Well, I didn’t waaannnnt to do it, but if I hadn’t done it, I’d probably be standing in the corner, too nervous to talk to you,” I admitted.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why would you be nervous to talk to me?”

I gave out a big sigh.

“You’re sooooo hot,” I moaned. “I kind of want to fuck you, but I don’t want to lose my job,” I admitted, licking my vodka-tasting lips before continuing. “And also, I got, like, cheated on big time in my last relationship and it left me with some crazy trust issues and self esteem issues. And, I haven’t had sex since then! It’s been two years, George, can you believe that?!”

My eyes blinked a few times as I stared at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded. My eyebrows were raised and my jaw struggled to keep closed.

“W-was this before or after I threw up?” I asked, trying to compose myself as I felt my face heating up.

“Literally right before you threw up,” he answered with a small laugh.

I withdrew my hand from his, using my index finger and thumb to pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.

“I can’t believe I said that shit,” I groaned, leaning back into the couch. “I can’t believe you didn’t just laugh in my face, God, that’s so embarrassing!”

He watched me with amusement, an entertained smirk making its way onto his lips. I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head in disappointment.

“Well,” he began, playful eyes staring at me. “If you think about it this way, love, if you’d never said anything, then we’d both probably still be too nervous to talk to each other.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

“Do you think we’d still end up, you know...” I trailed off, referring to whatever label we shared.

He paused for a moment, he eyes drifting in thought before nodding.

“I think that you were made for me, love,” he admitted, his voice softer than before. He moved his hand onto my thigh, rubbing it gently. “I’ve never been so easily infatuated and comfortable with someone before you, Y/n.”

I wanted to cry, his words painted my heart with the love and desire I had failed to receive in my previous relationship. I blushed, blushing at not only his words, but his touch. The feeling of his hand on my thigh was anything but a soothing rub to me at that point, and my brain had addressed his touch far more quickly than it should have. My eyes dropped down to his hand, watching as it caressed me, just far enough from my heat. The contact sent me into overdrive, as my eyes moved back up to his face, scanning his plump lips.

I moved myself over to him, slowly leaning in until our lips brushed softly. My hands went to his shoulders, gently massaging them as I kissed him softly. His hand moved from my thigh and to my back, his other hand joining as he pulled me closer to him, our lips beginning to move at a steady rhythm. I moved on top of him, knees on each side of his legs as I settled into his lap, our lips still connected. He brought his hands down to my ass, squeezing my bum. I moaned, and he used my parted lips as access for his tongue. Our tongues danced together as his hands snaked back up to my back.

As I straddled him, I slowly rolled my hips against his lap, needing the friction against my heat. I could feel the tent in his pants against my core, making me moan against his lips. His hands moved back down to my hips, guiding my movements as I rolled my hips against him again. He groaned, lifting his hips for more friction. My lips parted from his as I moaned again, tugging my shirt off of my body, revealing my bra to him. His eyes widened at my exposed nipples through the thin lace fabric, his hands subconsciously raising to cup my breasts. The pads of his thumbs ran over the raised buds, making me let out a blissful sigh at the intimate contact. His fingers ran around my torso, to unclip the bra. He gave me a look, wanting permission first. I nodded, looking down at his dark, blue eyes before his fingers effortlessly worked their way with the clasp, removing the bra from my body.

He immediately attached his lips to one of my nipples, lapping at the bud and gently nibbling on it, as I tilted my head back in euphoria.

“Can we, fuck, take this to my bedroom?” I breathed, looking down at him.

His mouth released from my nipple with a pop, as he picked me up and walked me to my bedroom. He settled me down onto my bed, not bothering to close the door as he settled himself in between my legs. The tent in his jeans rubbed against my core as he ground his hips into mine, his lips returning to my own.

We were lost in each other, voicing soft moans into each other’s mouths while our hips moved together, too lost that we didn’t hear the front door open.

“Y/n! I have some soup for y–HOLY SHIT!”

George peeled off of me, my hands immediately coming to cover my exposed breasts.

I heard the sounds of her shoes against the floor as she scurried away, shutting my bedroom door.

“I’m sorry!” she called from the living room, as George looked at me with an amused smirk.

I threw one of my throw pillows at him with a roll of my eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” I groaned, biting back a smile of my own.

He tossed the pillow onto the floor, moving himself back on top of me.

“Make me,” he whispered, attaching his lips onto mine.

I let our lips move together in a steady rhythm, before I pulled away, concluding our kiss with a peck on his lips.

“My bra and top are just sitting on the floor where my roommate’s probably trying to eat right now,” I groaned, embarrassed.

As if on cue, the door opened as we heard the sound of something dropping at the entrance of my room, before the door closed again. I sat up, noticing that she had returned my missing pieces of clothing to me as they sat neatly in front of the door. I got up, arm slung over my breasts before pulling the shirt onto my torso, not bothering wearing the bra. I tossed the bra into my underwear drawer, before returning back to the bed. I watched as the man on my bed hungrily looked at my chest, not caring whether I noticed or not.

“You’re teasing me,” he moaned, his voice husky with lust. He sat with his legs criss-cross, watching me as I mimicked his seated position.

I could feel my hardened nipples against the fabric, teasing him with my now-covered breasts.

I got on my knees and hands, prowling towards him. Smirking, I nudged my nose against his own, watching as his eyes watched me in awe.

“What are you going to do about it?” I chided with a whisper.

Without a warning, he captured my lips with his own, hands going to the back of my head to pull me closer to him. Our tongues danced together as we feverishly kissed, wanting needing the contact with each other. His lips moved to kiss the corner of my mouth, before moving down my jaw.

“What do you want to do, love?” he asked between kisses as his lips began sucking on a spot on my neck.

My eyes rolled back at the sensation, as I tried to control myself to answer his question.

“I-I don’t want to, fuck, George, d-don’t want to have sex yet,” I admitted between moans as his teeth nipped at the spot, igniting more and more pleasure.

His mouth left my neck for a moment before finding another spot on my neck, sucking sweetly at the skin just like before.

“You want to ride my thigh, angel? Want to get yourself off on me while I watch?” he growled against my neck.

My cheeks flushed at his dirty words, but I could feel the pool of wetness growing in my panties.

“Yes, George,” I pleaded. He pulled his lips away from me as I peeled my shirt off and went to unbutton my pants.

He replaced his fingers with my own, fumbling with the button and zipper much more slowly, thickening the tension and teasing me. I helped him peel the fabric off of my skin, standing up from the bed and tossing them without thinking. I was left in my lacy black panties, stalking over to him nervously whilst he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. I met my lips with his in attempt to calm my nerves, my fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He pulled away to quickly peel his shirt off of him, making his locks look more disheveled in the sexiest way possible.

He propped my legs up so that my knees were on either side of his left thigh, our chests flush against each other. His hands went to my hips as I lowered myself onto his thigh carefully, before slowly rolling myself against him. I sighed at the contact of my clothed clit against him, feeling him flex underneath my core. One of his hands went to my knee, pushing it closer to the tent in his pants. As I rolled myself against him again, I made sure to rub friction from my knee against his boner. His lips captured mine in a sloppy kiss, as I started to gradually pick up my pace. His hands went back to my hips, guiding my movements as I humped his leg.

I felt the pleasure building inside of me, as I quickened my pace, desperate for my release. Our lips pulled away from each other, as I leant my forehead against his own, not able to concentrate on kissing anymore. My breath quickened and I moved my fingers to his hair, chasing my release.

“Cum for me, angel,” he ordered, his voice soft, but raspy with lust.

I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my mouth, due to his dirty words and the way this new nickname, angel, rolled off of his tongue. I hit my climax, as I continued to rub my pussy against his leg, riding out my high. As my breathing slowed, I attached my lips back to his, pushing him back onto the bed. He scooted himself up, allowing us to lay whilst our lips danced together. He rolled himself on top of me, as my legs immediately found their way around his waist. My fingers wandered down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and fumbling with the zipper while my feet helped me peel the fabric off of his legs.

I wasn’t sure where this was going, but I could feel another ache between my legs and I was desperate for another relief. He kicked off his shoes, leaving him in his boxers as the tent between his legs became much more present. He attached his lips back to mine before surprising me, grounding his hips into mine as I felt his clothed cock against my clothed core. My jaw went slack as another moan left my lips, my sensitive heat dripping from the sensation. He rolled his hips against mine again, pressing as much into me as he could. My legs pulled him into me, needing as much friction as possible.

He began picking up the pace, his face digging into the crook of my neck as his clothed dick humped my pussy. I felt his hot breath against my neck, motivating me to move my hips against him.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moaned into my hair. “You gonna make me cum in my briefs, angel?”

With that, I released for my second time, my body stilling underneath him as the pleasure waved over me. I could feel him twitch against my heat, feeling small spurts make wet spots through his underwear. I rode my high against him, as my breathing slowly returned to its normal pace. He rolled onto his back, lying beside me as his chest rose up and down. I turned my head to face him, as I watched him do the same. He leant his head up, looking down at the wet spot displayed through his underwear. He chuckled softly.

“You made my cum in my bloody underwear, Y/n.”

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #x reader #x reader fic #fanfic #dean charles chapman #1917 #1917 cast

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shitty-tf2-headcanons · 5 years

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Mercs and s/o watching a scary movie together?

Scout-

Aww you wanted to watch a scary movie with him? Did you want your big brave Scout to protect you from any monsters that came after you? That’s cute. But sure, he’ll watch one with you. Just hold him tight if you ever get scared, babe!

The both of sat on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table while your legs sat under you. His arm lay across your shoulder and your head rested on his chest, his chatter light but endless as you watched the movie. He leaned in close to your ear, “This ain’t even sc-”

His words were cut off by a jumpscare and his own petrified screams. He flailed wildly before practically throwing himself into your side and holding you as tightly as he could. His wide panicked eyes remained planted on the screen and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, you could feel the tremors of his body.

After he calmed down from his mini attack, he straightened up and tried to play off his major scare. Though judging by how tight he held you to his chest, he was still a bit shaken. In an effort to comfort him, you gave his cheek a kiss. His eyes flickered over to you and a sweet if shaky smile spread across his lips.

Soldier-

A scary movie, huh? Why watch that crap when you could go out with him and fight a real wizard! Oh, you don’t want to fight? Fine, he guesses he could watch one with you. But your ass better be ready for some strong American cuddles!

He laid behind you with his head propped up by his hand, his other arm thrown over your waist and keeping your body pressed close against him. He watched the film with childish wonder, occasionally leaning down to your ear to ask what happened again. His hand would stroke your belly as you quietly spoke to him.

You can’t really explain what happened next. All you know is that the monster popped up on the screen and Solly let out a startled shout behind you. Next thing you know, you’re on the floor and Solly is standing over the now destroyed TV. He was screaming about how the monster won’t hurt anyone anymore.

Once his TV rampage ended, he plucked you off the ground and ran off with outside, screaming about hunting down all the monsters so none could hurt you. All you could do was hold onto him tighter as he barreled towards Merasmus’ home. Congratulations, movie night became fight Merasmus night.

Pyro-

O-Oh, you wanted to watch a scary movie? They don’t really like scary movies but…as long as you’re there then it’s okay! Can you snuggle them, please? And give them kisses? Oh, oh, can you make some hot chocolate too!? Please!!

They were sat across your lap, their mask nuzzled into your neck and their arms wrapped around your waist. Your hand stroked circles into their back as they trembled and mumbled quietly. They tried their best to pay attention to the movie but it was pretty hard to when they were constantly on the lookout for scares.

A pained scream burst forth from the screen and Pyro gasped and jolted violently. They buried their face away in the crook of your neck and cried as their fingers dug into the fabric of your clothes. Their whimpers were muffled by their mask but you could still clearly hear them. Their body pressed closer to you.

The next hour was spent holding them close and peppering their mask in kisses, reassuring them that it was just a movie and no monsters were coming for them. They only really calmed down when you made some hot coco and played a family friendly movie. That still didn’t stop them from clinging to you though.

Demo-

Oooh you wanna watch a scary movie? Sure thing, lass/lad! Just, don’t put on anything involving eyes, okay? And hey, if the movie isn’t even that scary then maybe he can share some of his famous ghost stories to give you a real scare.

His arms rested on the back of the couch and his feet rested on table, your feet resting in his lap as you lay across the couch. Following his command, you did put on something that didn’t involve eyeballs but that did nothing to stop the boredom he felt. He spoke to you the entire time in order to keep himself awake.

After yawning for the 100th time, he finally moved your feet off of him and claimed that he was gonna get some popcorn. You let him go and continued watching the film. It’s only when you briefly wondered where Demo was is when he sprung in front of you and shouted “BOO” in your face.

You would’ve shouted at him for laughing so hard but you were busy trying to calm your racing heart and find your breath. He was doubled over on the floor and wheezing when you finally glared at him and told him to get you some apology popcorn. He gave you a kiss on the nose and went off to get your treat.

Heavy-

You want to watch scary movie? Hmph, alright. If movie is too scary, don’t be afraid. He will crush any monsters or people who try to hurt you. Will keep you safe and warm. Now, let him make some movie snacks in case you’re hungry.

You’re sat on his lap with a giant bowl of popcorn sat in your own. His chin rested on top of your head and his large broad hands lightly held your hips. As expected, he was silent as you both watched the film but he occasionally did quietly ask you to explain certain plot points. You, of course, obliged.

You were in the middle of explaining why the victim chose to run upstairs of all things when a violent screech rang from the TV and caught you off guard. You jolted in place and let out a startled squeak, dropping the bowl of popcorn and tensing up in place. Heavy flinched below you and was quick to pause the film.

Despite your insistence that you were fine, you were just a little spooked, that did nothing to stop him from turning you to face him and cupping your face. He repeatedly asked if you were alright and assured you that you were safe with him. He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead and held you close to his chest.

Engineer-

Oh, you want to watch a horror movie? He would’ve preferred to watch a romantic comedy or maybe a light drama but whatever makes you happy, darling! He’ll set up his sentry in the corner in case a spooky monster comes in.

The both of you sat side by side, your hips touching and his hand holding yours in his lap and letting his thumb stroke along it. It wasn’t hard to hear his little scoffs or snickers when a victim did something particularly stupid. You squeezed his hand and asked him what was so funny. He chuckled and smiled at you.

He looked at you and told you that there is a easy way to stop the killer, just use a gun. You gave him a look and asked him what if there was no gun. His smile drops and says that they can just grab a makeshift weapon and attack the killer. What if the killer is invisible? Congratulations, you just opened a flood gate.

The movie was all but forgotten as the both of you began to debate the most effective way to stop a horror movie killer’s murdering spree. Engie was on the brink of shouting when a sudden surge of playful aggression came over you. So you tackled him and peppered his face in kisses, effectively ending your debate.

Medic-

You want to watch a horror movie? Oh how delightful, he was hoping to get a good laugh tonight! Make sure to pick the bloodiest and goriest movie you can find, or else it won’t be very fun. Oh, maybe you can get some cuddles too!

His elbows were propped up on his knees and his hands cupped his face, his eyes wide and glazed as he watched the film. You rested your back against his side and your feet were propped up on the couch’s edge. He was silent. Completely enthralled by the film and blind to his surroundings and you.

Suddenly, a surge of laughter burst out of him and he doubled over, holding his sides and trying in vain to wipe away the tears that pricked his eyes. You shot off of him and gave him a questioning look. He noticed your stare and tried to explain what was so funny, but he always fell into a fit of giggles.

After he calmed down, he told you in great detail about how unrealistic the effects were. I mean, look at how fake that corpse is! You and him spent the duration of the time laughing uncontrollably at the corny film, your laughter drew some of your concerned teammates out. Overall, it’s a morbid but fun night.

Sniper-

Scary movies ain’t as scary as being trapped in a jungle with a broken arm and leg, with nothing but a flimsy little pocket knife and a bag of jerky, alone and surrounded by hungry animals who want to eat you alive. But sure he’ll watch.

You sat back on the couch with your legs spread apart, he sat on the floor in between your legs with his head resting against your inner thigh. Your hands rested in his shaggy brown hair and softly stroked his scalp as you both watched the movie. As to be expected, he was silent…and motionless?

You quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward to take a peek at his face. His eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted, his breaths light and faint. Ah, he had fallen asleep. He looked so peaceful. You smiled and leaned back against the couch. You continued to softly pet him and lightly scratch his head.

Though the moment was completely ruined when a jumpscare managed to scare you and you nearly ripped out a handful of his hair as you jumped. He awoke with a start, bleary and confused, the pain in his scalp only registering after a few moments. He gave you an annoyed look and you smiled sheepishly.

Spy-

Really, ma amour, a horror film? There are much more entertaining and romantic ways to spend a night with him. But he guesses he could watch it with you. But remember, he’ll hold you if you ever get scared of the scary monsters or killers.

Your head rested in his lap and your hand stroked along his knee as you watched the film, his hand softly running along your neck and ear, his other hand was busy holding his cigarette. He puffs and smokes, openly mocking the corny film and chuckling at the actor’s expense. He seemed to enjoy himself after all.

He was enjoying himself up until a particularly loud bang from the other room scared the living daylights of him. You fell from his lap and onto the floor as he leapt off the couch with a scream. Scout ran into the room, asking if someone was just stabbed or something. You just mumbled something into the floor.

Spy was nice enough to carry you to the kitchen and hold a bag of frozen peas to your sore face, apologizing profusely and asking if you were okay. Through his concern, you could sense his embarrassment and moodiness from his less than perfect display earlier. His mood only worsened when you chuckled.

Miss Pauling-

Eh, horror movies don’t really scare her anymore, considering she’s shooting people in the face and burying corpses on the daily. So she’ll pass…wait a second…if she watches with you will there be cuddles? If so, then hell yeah.

You laid back on the couch while she laid on top of you, your arms wrapped around her waist and your hands resting on the small of her back. Her arms were wrapped around your neck and her face was snuggled into your neck. She was trying her best to watch the film but she found that she really couldn’t.

Your hands stroked along her back and her fingers lightly brushed along your neck. The screams and blood shed that played on the screen did nothing to her. She just sleepily called them idiots and criticized the killer for being so sloppy in their work. You just hummed softly and muttered your agreement.

It wasn’t all that surprising when she closed her eyes and snuggled further into your neck, sleep having finally claimed her despite the chaos that played out. You tried your best to watch the rest of the movie through bleary eyes but her weight and warmth soon pulled you under too.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 imagines #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 miss pauling #asks

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